#so different from everyone else around my age
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postcardsfromheapside · 2 days ago
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So I finished my DA2 replay, and I had wondered if I would feel differently after taking my time with it, and with the perspective of Veilguard. And yes, in small ways I do, but about the series and about Anders, I don't. That is to say: I think Veilguard is a fucking fantastic capper to the series (I mean, pray there is more, "hope for the best, expect the worst" as the Mel Brooks song goes), and Anders is relatably angry, even if the "betrayal" is frustrating and heart-breaking.
Also, there's just too much Dragon Age just the same way there's too much Tolkien, it's just that I can relisten to Tolkien via audiobook while I work and don't have time to constantly replay Dragon Age to absorb every little detail that my broken brain forgets (and I'm pretty good with lore) and I wish parts of this fandom were more curious than scathing about things they've obviously forgotten. Or skipped through, according to some of them, because I guess the context of dialogue and a cut scene isn't necessary for some of them to weigh in on things.
Word vomit of notes below the break:
First of all.
Can these two just fuck already. Watching Cassandra go from throwing him around to absolutely ENTHRALLED by Varric's complete bullshit is just going to make it so much better when I hit the "Guilty Pleasures" quest again in DA:I. This woman is SEDUCED by his story-telling, and you *cannot* convince me he wasn't gagging on his power trip.
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Second.
I never played Mark of the Assassin before, and had completely forgotten Felicia Day was in DA2, and laughed like hell. I really enjoyed it. I haven't really used a stealth option in a game since leaving Skyrim for other stuff (do we ever really leave Skyrim?) and it was really fun, but I think the wyvern at the end of the DLC was actually the best fight in the entire game, even more than Corypheus. It hinted at the dragon battles to come in Veilguard. Also, I loved how Anders' dialogue got more relaxed outside of Kirkwall, like shedding the city let him loosen up. The back and forth with Hawke about his fantasy for being rescued was completely unhinged - after I accused Hawke of being feral and lacking social graces, I've decided the two of them match each other's freak and they're fine.
Third.
All the people who were losing their minds about the line "A crow never abandons a contract" and acting like the devs forgot Zevran.
He literally addresses it in the game. I keep having these moments where shit that people bitched about regarding Veilguard is addressed right *there.*
"The crows do like saying that, but I am living proof it's a lie."
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No one actually forgot, but I'm sure the Dellamorte's wish to the Maker a motherfucker could.
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When people complain the writing in Veilguard is too modern, I'm going to remember Hawke complaining exactly like this. She sounds like I do when I'm side-eyeing my friends in the year of our Maker 2025.
Fourth.
I had planned on romancing Blackwall this DA:I run, finally, because I'm a little obsessed with this Warden throughline from Anders to Blackwall to Davrin. From a cage, to hope/redemption, to a more meaningful path of positive change and impact.
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They both haunt Veilguard's narrative and dialogue.
And then of course:
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hrm.
Fifth.
I do hope we get another DA. Or supplementary material. Because I want to know what the fuck is going on with this story I had forgotten the details of, especially with the decision regarding the Nadas Dirthalen.
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These two fucking idiots. I can't believe in different lives I've schtupped them both. (I can absolutely believe it)
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Sixth.
The worst part of Meredith is she sounds like conservative family members of mine. 'Better to punish the innocent than risk even one guilty person go free', rather than the opposite. To them it sounds so reasonable. To us, it's abhorrent to punish everyone else for other people's crimes.
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I couldn't bring myself to feel betrayed by Anders, even though I tried to play my Hawke as I think she would have felt: betrayed by the secret-keeping, if nothing else. The shock and hurt at the innocent lives. But it's hard not to feel an understanding when I sit here in a political situation with - maybe not less fraught, but at least less fantastical - implications and certainly still feel like violence is inevitable and we are way past the point of compromise and words.
Anyway.
This dwarf.
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ilyasorokinn · 3 days ago
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a change would do you good , erik johnson
note, ej signing with a different team is old news atp but I didn't finish this fast enough last year. this was at first supposed to go up after the trade, then I didn't make it so I decided, more recently, what better time than his 1000 game milestone, and that didn't work... so now it's here! and it's so late! but what else is new right? another note, i was inspired to add one scene after seeing this video of sharkie with erik karlsson's kid. check it out if you want, it's cute. last note, this fic is part of the "life with the johnsons" series, so check out this masterlist for more. pair, erik johnson x reader summary, after 13 years, all good things must come to an end. warnings, kids/children, pain and sadness (it's sad in the beginning but it gets happier towards the end) word count, 1908 words
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(gif not mine)
January 2023, 7 months till UFA
You knew your husband well enough to know something was wrong. You could sense it. So, after you had tag-teamed bedtime, you found him sitting alone in your room.
"What's your deal?" You asked, making your way into the closet to change.
"What do you mean?" He asked, slipping a bookmark into the book he was reading so he could give you his full attention.
"I mean you've been acting weird all day, so spill." You plopped down next to him, looking up at him and waiting for him to answer your question. He opened his mouth, ready to give an answer but stopped, "What?" You pushed.
"What would you think about a move?"
"Like houses? I mean, I like this one. It's big enough for us and the backyard is-"
"No, not houses. States. Countries."
"Like, during off-season?" You were now even more confused than before.
"No, during the season." Your eyes widened as you finally understood what he was saying, "I'm a Free Agent after this season."
"They're not gonna sign you?"
"No, they do. I don't want to." He shook his head.
"You want to leave Colorado?" You were shocked at the words coming out of your mouth.
"13 seasons is a lot." He told you simply.
"You love Colorado." You didn't even know if the words you were saying were English.
"I do." He nodded, "It's time." Was all he said then turning off his light, a non-verbal way of telling you he didn't want to keep talking, so you respected it and turned off your lamp.
-
The next night, you were in the same position. You were getting ready for bed, the same topic from the night before had been floating around your head the entire time.
"Erik..." You called out. He turned to look at you from his sink through the mirror, "Can we at least talk about it? Do I get a say?"
"Of course." He nodded.
"What if I want to stay? My life is here, our friends are here!" You reminded him, slamming the tube of toothpaste on the counter.
"Okay, hey." He reached over, putting his hand on top of yours, "I know everyone we know is here, but don't you feel it? It's time." He nodded.
You looked up at him and could see the sincerity in his eyes, the longing behind them, "I need time." You told him, turning away from him and continuing to get ready for bed, unsure if you would even get sleep that night because your mind would be reeling with the fact that Erik was unhappy where he was.
-
A few days later, you and Erik finally sat down to finally talk things out. There were tears (from both parties), and after much arguing and weighing the pros and cons, you finally agreed.
It wasn't an easy decision. You were more worried about how Lila, Zach, and Ivy would take it. They had been born and had spent their whole lives in Colorado, so you were worried.
You wrangled the three of them into the living room and sat them down. Lila, ever so smart for her age, knew something was wrong. She had woken up in the middle of the night to get a glass of water and heard you talking at night once.
She didn't quite understand what you were talking about, but the tone of the conversation was enough for her to realize that something was wrong.
"We wanted to talk to you three about something." You started, subconsciously spinning your ring on your finger, a nervous habit of yours.
"It's something big." Erik continued, taking a breath as he tried to gather his thoughts, "So, you know how we live here because I play sticks here?"
"Yeah." The three of them nodded.
"Well, after this season, I'm going to sign with another team." You watched with bated breath, each of their reactions. Ivy seemed to get it the quickest.
"We're moving away?" She asked, tears filling her eyes.
"After this season, yes." Erik nodded, his shoulders sagging at their reactions.
"I don't wanna move." Ivy was the first to start crying, and it set off a domino effect.
It took you and Erik almost an hour and a half to get the three of them to stop crying. Luckily, they had tired themselves out and ended up falling asleep.
You and Erik found yourselves on the couch, sharing a bottle of wine as you thought about how much change would be happening in the coming months.
"Do you think I'm making the right decision?" He asked, looking over at you.
"I can't answer that for you." You smiled sadly, shaking your head, "All I'll say is before you declare anything, make sure you're really sure about this."
-
June 2023, 1 month till UFA
Since your first conversation in January, you had talked about Free Agency briefly, and from those conversations, you gathered that Erik was sure about the move.
You talked to everyone. Coaches, Joe Sakic, Jared Bednar, the other members of the Avs organizations, teammates, and everyone else. Erik made sure the first person he told was Gabe because they were brothers.
You invited Melissa and Gabe over for dinner and were almost scared to tell them. In all the time you'd lived in Colorado, you had known the Landeskogs. They were family.
"So, what's with this special dinner?" Gabe asked, raising a brow at both of you as the meal came to a close.
"Well, we have some news." Erik looked over at you, and you gave him a reassuring nod and smile.
"You're pregnant?" Gabe guessed.
"No." You rolled your eyes.
"You know how my contract is up?" Erik began. While Mel still looked a little confused, a look of understanding fell on Gabe's face, and he nodded.
"You're not serious." He shook his head, covering his mouth in shock.
"I'm serious." He nodded.
"EJ..." He breathed out, standing up and pulling his friend into a long hug.
Mel stood up and did the same, coming over and wrapping you in a big hug, "I'm gonna miss my partner in crime." She joked, laughing tearfully.
"Me too." You smiled, squeezing her tighter.
When you gave them each a hug goodbye and shut the door, you turned to Erik, "You doing okay?"
"I don't know." You reached up and wrapped your arms around him, rubbing his back as he broke down in tears.
"It's okay." You whispered, kissing his head as he fell apart.
-
August 2023, 1 Month Post Free Agency
Before July 1st, you managed to tell everyone the news. Family, friends, teammates, colleagues, everyone. And they all shared pretty much the same reaction as Gabe and Mel.
For the kids, it took a while for them to really understand what was happening, but they quickly adapted and were excited to move to a new city.
The one thing they were upset about was not being able to see their best friend, Colorado Avalanche mascot, Bernie.
At every home game you could make it to, it was a tradition that you would find Bernie, and the kids would take a picture with him. Fans knew how much the kids loved him, and the team knew how much they loved him.
So, before you were planning to move, you, Erik, and the team put something together. Bernie would come over to your house and give them one last goodbye, and the media team would get some cute content.
The doorbell rang, and you looked up and could see through the window who was outside, "Who's at the door, guys?" You pulled out your phone and started recording, wanting to get their reactions.
"You wanna go see who's at the door?" Erik asked, "I think it's for you." He added. They knew not to answer the door by themselves unless you knew who it was, or you gave them the okay.
The kids looked confused, but the three of them made their way over to the door. They got a peek from through the glass beside the door of who it was and began jumping around, "Bernie!"
Bernie and Trixie were barking and jumping around. Erik quickly caught Ivy before she was toppled over by the dogs. He reached for the door handle, and both dogs rushed out, greeting the much larger dog.
"Bernie!" Lila and Zach ran towards him, giving him a big hug. He hugged them both and held out the presents in his arms for them. He handed each of them a giant rose, which they both clutched to their chest.
"Oh, my gosh!" You gasped, "What do you guys say?"
"Thank you, Bernie!" They both hugged him again. He patted them on the back before standing up and handing Ivy her own giant flower which was practically the same size as her.
"Thank you, Bernie." She giggled, wrapping her arms around the giant dog's neck.
You invited Bernie in, and together, all three kids showed him their playroom, letting him pretend to play with Barbies before they made their way outside to the giant playset.
He went between all three kids and pushed them on the swings, getting winded after going through the three of them in a row. By the end of the day, they were upset to see their favorite mascot go.
"Bye, Bernie." They each gave him one last hug, and Ivy even blew him a kiss like she did to Erik whenever she was up by the glass.
-
Arriving in Buffalo was no easy feat. Getting all three kids situated, and then getting yourselves situationed was a challenge, but you got it. When you got to Buffalo, you were greeted by Sabretooth, the Sabres' mascot, in the airport. He was holding a sign with all three kids' names on it.
They noticed, and immediately pointed it out when they saw it, "Do you guys remember who that is?" You asked, looking down at Ivy who was resting her head on your shoulder.
"Sabretooth." She answered, nervous as she looked at the mascot. It took some warming up to get used to Bernie, so you knew it would take some time before she got used to the new mascot.
"That's right." Sabretooth flipped the sign over, and it read 'Welcome to Buffalo, Johnsons!'.
"Thank you, Sabretooth." Erik was the first to hug the tiger, which would ease all the kids' nerves. Sabretooth gave him a big hug, before looking to Lila and Zach, who now looked more comfortable.
The twins looked at each other, communicating silently with their twin language, before looking back at the mascot and accepting his hug. Ivy, who now was more comfortable with the giant tiger, wiggled, signaling to you that she wanted to be let down.
You set her down, and she followed after her older siblings and joined in on the hug. Eventually, the three of them were all talking to Sabretooth and telling him all about their plane ride.
You and Erik watched a few steps behind them, and your heart warmed. You looked over at Erik, and wrapped an arm around his waist, "So, how do you feel now?"
"It's gonna take some getting used to." He said, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.
"But, we're gonna make it work. We always do." You reminded him.
"Like we always do." He repeated with a nod.
-
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yew--berries · 10 months ago
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"she should have been at the club" "she should have been at home" I SHOULD HAVE BEEN WRITING FANFIC. I SHOUDL HAVE BEEN READING HOMESTUCK.
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cybertron-smash-or-pass · 9 months ago
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Beast Wars Cheetor
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opens-up-4-nobody · 8 months ago
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...
#its weird. everyone ive met at work has been really nice#its a different group of people than ive interacted with thus far in my life as ive mostly not#had many friends and spent all my time in school. this group of people is mostly from the area where they grew up. mostly barely getting by#financially. mostly married or engaged or in serious relationships. and its weird. and it has been weird and maybe it will always be weird#but i dont understand how to interact with people. im not there for conversations im not present for but how do other ppl interact with#eachother? bc in a conversation i want to get to kno how a person works. what motivates them. what do they love? what do they hate? what#makes them the person that they are? i just want to understand. so i ask lots of questions and it feels weird bc i dont get#the same energy back and i have to conclude that either i have a very different mindset when im walking into conversations or else im just#not vedy interesting and no one wants to get to kno me. but if thats not how ppl communicate then i dont understand how ppl have friends?#and keep friendships? like i want to crawl into ur brain and understand what makes u tick#how can we b friends if i dont understand who u r? i dunno. maybe ill never understand#maybe work is not the place to make friends. but i dont kno how to interact with others outside of a structure#one of the ppl i talked to is maybe my age with a 6yo son and is freshly engaged and she was like: u moved across the coutry all by urself?#i could never do that. and like yea u have ties that bind u to the place u live. its easy to move around when u have nothing to lose#im so bad at maintaining friendships. i just let them drift away into nothing bc i dont kno what to do with the.#with them.#unrelated
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mcheung · 2 years ago
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give me back my girlhood it was mine first give me back my girlhood it was mine first give me back my girlhood it was mine first give me back my girlhood it was mine first give me back my girlhood it was mine first
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dingusships · 2 years ago
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bigass vent over general life things
things in general are really not great i don't really have any optimism for the future or making a life for myself. like i don't really have any drive or ambition to look forward or work towards anything good/meaningful because as time goes on there are going to be really bad life events that i just don't think i can keep facing anymore. and theyre going to be worse. i'm just dragging along life solely on the basis that i was plopped here to just Exist and that's my task at hand that i'm reluctantly upholding. just exist until it's over
#when i say 'i'm 25' 'i'm going to be 26' it does not feel right coming out of my mouth. i do not feel just 25 or 26 i feel far far older#mentally and physically#when i'm around other people my age i just feel on a completely different plane of experience from everyone else#idk. i've always been a naturally anxious and socially stunted person & def have some kind of lingering trauma that keeps me from connectin#w people. but also having no family members or relatives anywhere near my age (~17 yrs older than me at the least) while i was growning up#probably did something to me as well. my entire life has just been witnessing family members decline and die like dominoes over the course#of 25 years. like i know all about end of life care and legal paperwork and shit like that. i know what grief is like and#seeing how it affects people. i know the stages of dread and worry and numbness & guilt-ridden relief that comes with being terrified 24/7#for an ailing family member over the course of years. knowing what it's like to grieve people who arent dead yet but you know it's coming#and then when the inevitable happens it's horrible. but also you're so exhausted from the strain that you're mostly numb. and then you feel#a sense of relief that the worst is over they're not suffering anymore you don't have to dread it anymore. which obviously makes you#question if you're some kind of deranged asshole for feeling that way. idk#25 for me has been a very eye-opening age where i'm fully realizing how fast time passes. i thought i was at around 18-20 but i was really#just first becoming aware of it.#i know how to view the world from that lens bc that's all i know. i only see life as a preparation for the end#instead of a beginning. or at least see it as a beginning at this current point in my life#covid/lockdown has definitely been a source of mental drain on me as well. the constant fear and paranoia of getting sick AND what sort of#long term consequences i could have due to getting it twice. and what i could have if i get it more than twice#add that with the general social and political climate right now and it's just...so very bleak. home life is bleak & outside world is bleak#vent
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pedroscurls · 4 months ago
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in every lifetime
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summary: you lost logan in this universe. logan lost you in his. what happens when you both see each other again, but realize that you're both from different worlds? pairing: logan howlett x fem!reader warnings: post deadpool & wolverine ("worst" logan!variant), angst (mentions of death, loss from both reader and logan), no use of y/n. word count: 2.1k a/n: this is my first logan fic, so if anything is ooc, i'm sorry in advanced! just like everyone else, i've been obsessed with hugh jackman / logan after watching deadpool & wolverine (if it isn't obvious lol)... i had the song 'unchained melody' in mind when writing this story because whenever i hear it, i think of logan for some reason lol (tried to embed it but it didn't work, but i'd highly recommend listening to the song while reading this!) anyway, hope you enjoy! next part.
“I’ll be back.”
“But what if–”
“I always come back, bub.” Logan’s looking down at you, hand cupping your cheek. In moments like this, you can see the age in his features. The crows feet at the corners of his eyes. The gray in his hair and beard. 
“Logan…” Tears sting your eyes. You know he has to leave, has to go help Charles, but there’s a feeling deep in your gut that knows that if he goes, he isn't coming back. 
“Wait for me, then.” He says, dipping down to gently peck your lips. “Okay? Wait for me.” 
“Logan,” you repeat. “What do I do if I– if I lose you?” 
There’s a feeling in the pit of Logan’s stomach, a sense of dread and fear that he’s only ever felt when you were concerned. This feels a lot like a goodbye… That maybe if he does go, he won’t come back. And the thought alone scares him. He never used to have to think about the possibility of dying, his regenerative powers always healing him in record time, but he knows that he doesn’t heal as quickly as before. He feels more pain now than he ever had. And he knows he’s sick, knows that the adamantium that once gave him strength is now slowly making him weaker.
But now, the thought of dying… It fucking scared him. It scared him to think that he’d leave you here, all alone, grieving him. He had never thought he’d be deserving of someone like you, to be loved and taken care of so gently, so sweetly, so patiently. Even with all of the baggage he carried, you never pushed. He knew, right off the bat, that you deserved someone so much better than him, but you stayed. 
Through it all, you stayed. 
And Logan would forever be grateful. After everything he’s been through, the things he’s seen, the things he had to do, the people he’s lost, you gave him a life that was finally worth living. 
“Then, you move on, darlin’.” Logan finally answers. 
“And if I can’t?” 
“You’ll have to.” 
“I don’t… I don’t want you to go, but I know that you have to. Charles needs you and–”
“I love you with every fiber of my being, baby,” Logan interjects. “And I will love you in every lifetime.” 
And that was almost a year ago. The moment he stopped calling, you knew that was it. That he either got into some real trouble or… Or that he was no longer here. It wasn’t until a young girl named Laura showed up on your doorstep, holding his dog tags that your assumptions were correct. 
You had fallen to your knees, a sob escaping your lips, as you felt your world come crashing down. Logan’s death had left a gaping hole in your heart, in your life, and everywhere you looked and everywhere you went, all you could see was him. 
You learned from Laura that during his last moments, he had told her to come and find you, that you would take care of her and give her a good life. Whenever you were around her, you tried to be strong, tried to put on a brave front, but behind closed doors, you were a complete mess. There were days where you didn’t want to get out of bed, didn’t want to eat; you just wanted the pain to stop. Every night, whenever you closed your eyes, you forced yourself to sleep because that was the only place where you could be with him. 
In your dreams, he was alive. 
In your dreams, he had made it back home.
In your dreams, he was here with you, helping raise Laura. 
And every time you woke up, you were welcomed with the sudden reality that he wasn’t alive. He wasn’t coming back home. He wasn’t ever going to be here with you to help raise Laura. 
Logan was dead and now, you had to try and learn how to move on. 
For yourself.
For Laura.
For Logan. 
He didn’t know what he was doing here, why he agreed to stay with Wade because it was driving him crazy. This wasn’t even his timeline; he wasn’t even meant to be here. Despite saving Wade’s timeline, Logan still found it hard to fit in. He tried to keep Wade and every single one of his friends at an arm's distance because he knows what happens to people he cares about. 
But the more time he spent around them, the more he felt at ease. Logan would be lying if he said he was waiting for the other shoe to drop, but when Laura mentioned your name at one of Wade’s family dinners, his heart skipped a beat. When he realized he would be able to stay in this timeline, you were all he could think about. 
Logan wondered if you existed in this world and what he would do if you did. So, when Laura casually said your name, his head turned around so quickly that he felt dizzy. There were so many things he regretted in his own timeline, but you were his biggest regret. 
Just like he failed the other X-men, Logan had failed you too. You had been there with the other X-men, trying to warn them of a planned attack and ended up getting caught in the crossfire. You had called out for him, just like Scott, like Charles, like Storm. 
He managed to get to you before you had taken your last breath, holding you in his arms. Logan begged and begged for you to fight, that he’d do things right from now on as long as you just held on, but you were losing so much blood and Logan couldn’t stop it. 
Even then, when you had every right to be angry with him, you gazed up at him with an understanding look on your face. You had always been so patient and kind, so sweet and considerate. You had made him so happy and it scared him, which ultimately ended in pushing you away because he didn’t think he was deserving of it. Of you. 
“I love you, Logan,” you had said, wincing at the pain. 
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m–” Logan felt a sob catch in his throat, tears stinging his eyes as he looked down at you. “Please, baby, please please please, don’t–”
“I–” you coughed, eyes fluttering as you felt the pain overcome your entire body. “I will love you in every lifetime, Logan.” And then, you took your last breath, eyes falling shut and body falling limp in his arms. 
Since then, Logan drank himself day after day, from dawn to dusk. The alcohol never truly helped, his regenerative powers sobering him so fast, but with every swig of liquor, it burned. And he spent years bringing pain unto others, including himself. 
That was, until he met Wade who had given him a chance, a reason to fight for something… To not turn his back on someone who relied on him. A chance for redemption, to finally make things right. 
“So, will you meet her?” Laura asks, holding Dogpool in her arms as she gazes up at Logan. “She– She used to be with this universe’s Logan and…”
“No chance, kid.” Logan interrupts, shaking his head. “I’m not him.” 
“Did you have someone like her in yours?” she asks. “She’s always put me first, always made sure I was taken care of even when she didn’t have to, when she was grieving. And I think–” Laura sighs. “I think if she knows that some version of you is alive, it would make her real happy.”
“I’m not him,” Logan growls, feeling his irritation spike. “‘Sides, she’s better off without me.” He stands from the table and walks out into Wade’s balcony to get some fresh air, shutting the door behind him as he leans against the railing.
“But she’s coming tonight,” Laura finally says, long after Logan’s walked away.
Throughout the rest of the dinner, Logan remains outside. He can hear the muffled laughter coming from inside and it only angered him because it was just another confirmation that he didn’t belong here. He’s already on his fourth bottle of beer when he hears a familiar voice, smells a recognizable scent. He turns slightly and catches you stepping into Wade’s apartment, an arm slinging over Laura’s shoulders so casually, so maternally. 
He feels his heart rate pick up. Your smile still lights up a room and he can’t help but his lips turning upwards at the sight. With his enhanced hearing, Logan can hear your voice and he shuts his eyes for a moment, tuning all of his attention on you until you’re the only one he hears. 
Then, he hears your laugh and he lets out a sigh. He never thought he’d be able to hear that again, but his eyes shoot open when he hears you say his name. There’s a shocked tone in your voice, laced with sadness and hope. It all but crushes him because he knows that you’re probably expecting someone else, expecting this world’s Logan and he doesn’t want to disappoint you. Not again. He doesn’t think he’d be able to handle it if he were to hurt you again. 
But when he looks at you, his breath catches in his throat when your eyes meet his. Logan notices the surprise look on your face, but before he could try and escape, you’re already walking towards him. When you open the door and step out with him, your scent fills his senses and it makes him dizzy, like he can’t fully concentrate. 
“You…” he hears you say, voice unsteady. “You’re not… I’m–” you sigh and shake your head. 
“I know who you are,” Logan finally says, his own voice shaky. 
Your hands reach out for him, but stopping halfway when you realize this isn’t your Logan. This is not the same man who died all those years ago. This is some version of him – much younger, less wrinkles and gray hairs in his hair and beard, but he still has that same look on his face. The scowl. 
“From Laura?” you ask hesitantly. 
“From my universe,” Logan answers. 
“There– There’s a version of me in your universe?” 
“There was.”
“And what happened to me?” 
Logan’s jaw tightens. “The same thing that happened to your Logan in this universe.”
“Oh.” Your face drops, eyes softening. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. 
Logan wants to run far from here, far from you because he feels himself yearning for more. He almost forgot how it felt like to be near you, to be inches away that he can just reach out and pull you into his arms. Your eyes captivate him, the kindness it expresses makes him feel like he matters. You had always made him feel that way that even through all of his anger, through all of the walls he put up, you showed him that he was deserving of something good. Even if he didn’t believe it himself. 
And you… You were the best thing to ever happen to him.
“Don’t know why you’re apologizin’,” Logan mutters. 
There’s an uncomfortable silence that engulfs the both of you. He can see the tears threatening to spill over, can see the way your lower lip is beginning to tremble and he has this sudden urge to console you, to wipe away the tears that have now fallen down your cheeks. 
“I’m sorry,” you repeat, bringing your hands up to wipe away the tears that seem to be trickling down your face nonstop. “I just– Losing my Logan just crushed me and I don’t think I’ve ever recovered.” 
My Logan. 
Logan can practically feel his heart beating in his chest. This isn’t a conversation that he thought he would be having and certainly not with someone he loved and died because of him. 
“That’s okay,” Logan responds quietly, his tone softening. “I don’t think it’s easy to recover from losing someone you love.”
“Did you– Did you love me in your universe?” 
Logan nods slowly, tightening his jaw as he gazes down at you. “With every fiber of my being.” 
Your eyes widen and stare up at him. This might be a different Logan, but hearing those words again just brings you back to the moment you last saw your Logan before he left to go take care of Charles. 
“Did you love me in yours?” Logan asks hesitantly.
You nod instantly, tears trickling down your cheek as you stare up at him. “I’d love you in every lifetime.” 
Logan feels his own set of tears pool at the corners of his eyes and he moves a hand to rest on the railing, fingers lightly brushing against yours as he stares into your eyes. 
“I’m not him,” he whispers. 
“I know,” you say quietly. “And I’m not her.” 
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inkskinned · 2 years ago
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no, actually, where is the whimsy?
my ex had a best friend named larry who asked me once: what do you think comes after irony?
we were at the bar where larry worked. it was a quiet night, and he'd hopped over to sit with us on the patron side. i swirled the lemon around my limoncello martini.
earnest positivity, i said, while my ex said, art self-destructs.
i stared at my ex. he stared at me.
his argument was the cinemasins argument: look how bad media is becoming! look at the loopholes and the dumb shit!
it was roughly 2011. galaxy print was still in. at the time, i had a favorite shirt that was a wolf howling at the moon. it got ripped in half in the wash and i honestly still mourn it. i dressed like effie stonem, because everyone did. and irony was the name of the thing. men liked MLP "ironically." the internet liked the kind of crass, "anti-mainstream" vibes of things like fuck romance, touch my butt and buy me pizza. we put cats in sunglasses everywhere, which was because we only liked things in irony.
and media had the same vibe in it: anti-hero white men would be "hard to love" and then storm off the scene. nobody was just earnestly trying to save the world: they were jaded, angry, unoriginal. mad you even asked them to try to help.
my ex ends up not being wrong. cinemasins becomes super popular. a lot of people start viewing media with this lens that is the cruelest, most jaded depiction. it's wrong for your character to have unexplained powers, even if the entire movie is about how strange it is she has unexplained powers - that is still considered a "loophole." characters make thoughtless, panicked choices? loophole. characters are actually kind people, despite hardship? loophole. features a woman doing literally anything without assistance? loophole. movies become hyper-aware of scrutiny, and now irony rules the media.
which means you go to a movie, and the character has to turn to the screen and say "beats me!!" or one of the side characters has to have some kind of quip like "are you seriously telling me that you think this is normal?" because nothing can happen in earnest. like a sitcom laugh track, we now anticipate the fourth-wall break: the moment that the media acknowledges it is telling a story. the media has to apologize for itself, or else someone like my ex rolls their eyes.
but here's the thing: i wasn't wrong either.
the difference might be that i am (and always have been) so soft-hearted that any crack in the light of this world will spear me into the ground. and i was the poet in the relationship. (he thought that was the same thing as being naïve and stupid). i was making things daily. i knew how all of us artists are driven by some strange desire to evolve. he notably liked to critique art, not to create it.
so yes, i've made things that are bitter and angry and even ironic. i've made long, sharp poems with all capital letters, and i've made poems about how the silence stretches out like a song. someone wrote once that we will spend our whole lives just circling the place we grew up. i think it's more that we spend our whole lives trying to remake a home. i think it's that as we age, it becomes less exciting to build the castle on the beach - we become aware of erosion, of windforce. we realize what we really want is to come home to our dog, castle or not.
and while art in the foreground is mired in white male violence and irony, and aggression, and not taking anything seriously - i don't think that's true of all art. i think more and more artists are leaning in to the things we love. the world has changed so much. they have taken so many things from us. the only thing we have left is love. at the bottom of the moving box - all we get is the faint sense that we have to appreciate what little we've got. i can't enjoy this stuff ironically anymore: what room do i have for irony? if it makes me happy, that is an amazing thing. there are so few happy places left for me. i want to be happy because of how leaves shiver beside each other like nestling birds. i want to be happy because of the color pink, and how magenta doesn't exist. i have spent so much of this life suffering, i have earned my right to a gentle ending. if nothing matters, i get to assign meaning to the nothing. i get to create meaning. i am an artist first and foremost, which means creation is my thing.
where is the whimsy? wherever i fucking put it. because if this is my last fucking chance to do any good in this world - i want to do it earnestly. i want to write things that make you happy. that make people feel heard and seen. what comes after irony has to be positivity.
it was close to my 21st birthday. in 7 years, i would end up writing a book about this relationship, which is hopefully coming out somewhere around May 2024. i come back to this bar scene in my memories a lot. i keep thinking of how pale my ex was. the look that crossed his face. how i looked back at him. how for a moment, both of us couldn't recognize the other person. like the gulf between us was a suddenly wide and cavernous thing. like we were alien to each other. he never took my opinion seriously, and he always seemed surprised whenever his manic-pixie-dream-girl ever broke free of the plot. like in the whole time we were together, i wasn't human enough.
this knowledge: where he said nothing comes after, my only instinct was what comes after is love.
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starlightsearches · 2 months ago
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All Yours
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"I'm going to fucking ruin you." / "I won't apologize for marking you up, everyone should know you're taken." / "I don't want anyone else. No one can make me feel like you do."
@somethingvicked tagging you because I accidentally deleted the original ask 😬 just wanted to say thanks for the request and a big, fat SORRY for taking so long. i was scrolling through my drafts the other day and saw this was like a year old and the shame managed to motivate me enough to finish this. Ooops again and I hope you enjoy!! Comments, likes, and reblogs are always cherished 💖
Eddie Munson x F! Reader
AN: 18+ only!!!!!!, car sex, partially-clothed sex, piv, semi-public, titty worship, humping, dacryphilia, unwarranted jealousy, porn with a little plot, eddie's self-depricating at the beginning but he fucks like a god, very possesive! eddie, multiple orgasms, one (1) mention of pregnancy but it's off-hand and mostly unrelated to the sex, unprotected sex, I took the spirit of the prompts more than the literal wording, this is very different for me and maybe rushed? idk you tell me 🙃
Eddie always jokes that you're his second love.
His van—with its stained upholstery, rattling frame and the battery on its last leg—was here first, he says. And despite everything previously mentioned, he treats that car like his baby.
So when he slams his door hard enough to rattle the glass in the window, it wouldn’t take a genius to know something is up.
Eddie sits silently in the half-light, gripping at the steering wheel with both hands and gnawing at his bottom lip until the skin turns white.
"Everything okay?"
He won't even look at you when he shoves the key in the ignition.
"Sure," Eddie says, but there's a bite to his voice, quiet over the roaring grind of the starter, "why wouldn't it be?"
The car does start—despite his abuse to the engine—and you prop your feet up on the dash, raising your brows as he tears out onto the empty street.
"Ohhh-kay. Is this about—"
You don't even get a chance to take a guess.
"It's not about Steve."
Eddie spits Steve's name at the window and the passing trees, their leaves blurring into inky smudges. You watch his jaw tick, eyes flashing from the road to the rear-view mirror, but never to you.
His resolve falters with the press of your hand against his on the gearshift.
"Really? ‘Cause I was going to ask if this was about Patrick Swayze?”
The speedometer ticks up for a quick beat, and then drops, and Eddie squirms in his seat.
He steers off to the right, and the van shakes as the tires bump off the smooth pavement to the gravel edge of the road, little twigs snapping off on the trees outside against the fading paint.
"Fuck," Eddie grumbles, quiet, like he's having a conversation with himself. His fingers catch in his curls when he takes the other hand from the steering wheel. It's dark out here, away from the street lights, but you still catch the shine glazing his lower lashes, the way he blinks to keep any tears from pooling there.
"I mean, it's no big deal," you tell him, petting over his knuckles with your thumb, "I just wish you would have said something."
You're not sure what lies were spread to make sure the goofy little pre-teens didn't show up for movie night and try to break down Steve's door. You just knew that—for once—everybody piled on the couch in the living room was of legal age.
It seemed like an exciting prospect when the night started, but everything was pretty much the same: just more beer, and fewer voices shouting about whatever movie you were gonna watch.
Nancy and Robin were a united front when they pulled out Dirty Dancing, and you joined them, mostly to annoy Steve when he pretended he wasn't interested.
Eddie grumbled about the choice, arm slung around your shoulder, but he came around, eventually. Nobody can resist the allure of Johnny Castle.
However many beers you had may have been one too many, though, because as soon as the credits started rolling, Steve had yanked you from Eddie's grasp and onto your feet as Nancy and Robin were cheering jump jump jump and you ran, stumbling into Steve's arms with a surprisingly powerful leap. Then you were floating, high above the living room with a bird's eye view of the crushed beer cans and Hostess wrappers littered over the carpet for one glorious second.
Until you landed in a giggling heap with Steve groaning beneath you, the room shaking with laughter to the point of tears, until Robin threatened to pee her pants.
Now that you've sobered up a little, you recognize that Eddie hadn't been laughing along.
He lets his head fall back against the headrest, eyes big as saucers, pathetic like a little dog who's about to get yelled at for pissing on the couch, and he twists the hand that's resting beneath yours until your fingers intertwine, gives you a squeeze—a move you recognize as an apology before he's got the words for what he's feeling.
"You know I'm not interested in Steve, right?" you ask, squeezing back.
Eddie nods, but his eyes tell a different story. He carries this thing with him—a kind of self-conscious bewilderment each time you reach for him in a crowd, press your lips to his, call him your boyfriend when there are people around to hear it.
It's kind of funny how much it doesn't make sense to you, how you assumed that, deep down, Eddie knew that you loved him, but also how badly you wanted him. That it wasn't some kind of fluke or coincidence or apathy that kept you here.
Eddie's breath catches in his chest, like he's trying not to cry, and you know you were wrong. You're not doing nearly good enough a job at making Eddie feel half as loved as he is.
You slip your hand from his, resting it just above his knee—an innocent start for your more illicit plans—scooting in your chair until you're almost nose to nose, lower your voice into a whisper.
"I'm serious, honey. You've got nothing to worry about."
Your plan is working already. Eddie swallows hard enough you can see his adam's apple jump in his throat, and his gaze keeps flickering from your eyes to the hand you've got on his thigh, climbing higher with each soothing stroke.
"Yeah, I-I know, baby, it's just—" his breath hitches, but he's fighting to get the words out, wet lips parting with a heavy breath as your fingers travel higher, thumb in the crease between his thigh and his crotch, "it's Steve Harrington."
His voice jumps an octave on Steve’s name, and your quiet laughter comes out in little breaths.
“I don't want to talk about Steve Harrington."
Your words hit his mouth in a puff of hot air, and Eddie gasps into the kiss that follows, moaning a little when your palm meets the zipper of his jeans and his swelling cock beneath. The tip of his nose digs into your cheek, one of his big hands finding your waist, trying to pull you closer, or as close as he can with the center console in the way.
"God, baby. Need you- need you so bad," he huffs, but you’re already breaking from the kiss, lifting your hips from the seat as you crawl into the space between Eddie’s warm chest and the steering wheel.
“Then you can have me,” you tell him, settling your weight in his lap, grasping around for the lever that’ll give you a little extra space. The seat rattles back until it stops with a heavy clunk, and Eddie has to dig his teeth into his bottom lip to keep quiet when your body lurches into his.
He won’t meet your eyes, looking out the blackened windows, checking the car like somebody’s gonna pop out from the back seat.
“What? Uh, I mean—like, here?”
You take Eddie’s face in both your hands, relishing the scratch of the sparse stubble peppering his jaw. Out of habit, his hands come to rest on your thighs, and you hum in approval.
“Whenever–“ you whisper, shifting your hips back just to bring them forward again, the crotch of your jeans meeting the bulge in his, rattling the chains hooked to his belt loops. Eddie’s neck goes taut, head pressed back against the seat.
“Wherever– “ you place your lips at the delicate skin he’s revealed, just brushing along the column of his throat. When you meet his eyes again, Eddie’s pupils are blown wide.
“And however you want me, Eddie. I’m all yours.”
“You’re all mine,” he repeats back to you, and his hands echo the sentiment, his confidence growing as he moves around to grip at your ass cheeks, pulling you more fully against him until he can grind up on you, his lips at your neck now, planting messy kisses at the edge of your throat that have you digging your fingers into his hair just to keep him there.
Your boyfriend's got a big dick—fucking hung like a horse, although he doesn't seem to know it, and he's already throbbing and heavy in his jeans, bucking his hips into you like he's trying to get you pregnant before he’s even inside you.
"Eddie," you sigh his name, just to admire the feeling of it, and he lets out a groan that has you dripping, the damp fabric of your panties sticking to your cunt and dragging over your clit with each shift of his hips.
"Yeah, baby?" he asks, and you hardly notice his hands at the zipper on your jacket, trailing it down, down, down until he can slip it from your shoulders, gripping at your tits through your tank top.
"You feel so—fuck," he's cut you off mid-sentence, pulling the neckline of your top down until your breasts are free, nipples already pebbling in the cool air. Eddie pinches one of them in between two fingers, the metal of his rings biting at the other until you gasp.
"Yeah?" he repeats, harder this time, the word mumbled into your tits. Eddie's smothering himself, licking and kissing and teething his way as he moves to replace one of his hands with his mouth over the dark, stiff peak.
He sucks the bud between his lips, glides his tongue over the sensitive skin there. The sound of your moans fills the car, and suddenly the pressure of his cock isn't enough when there's so much fabric between you. You can't pull away, though, not with how his free arm has circled your waist, forcing the sway of your hips.
"Eddie," you call out again, but he just grunts, onto the other breast now, fucking devouring you in a way only he can.
He's not stopping, teeth scraping at your skin and his lips pursed, sucking the life out of you while his other hand pinches and flicks the other stiff bud, still damp with his spit.
It's almost frightening how close he's gotten you, and just from this—the movement of his hips and his worshiping mouth.
"Eddie."
There must be something different in the way you say it this time, because he listens, finally, snaking his hand down between your bodies, slipping the button on your jeans and shoving his fingers inside until they reach the apex of your aching cunt. Your vision goes foggy, on the verge of tears from the relief of something solid pressed right up against your clit.
And his mouth doesn't stray from your tits, single-minded in a way only somebody like Eddie could be, sucking at your nipples until they both shine.
His fingers curl, perfect, sitting right where you need them as you grind and grind and grind your hips, brain turning to jelly with the way he's making you feel.
You feel Eddie's teeth bite a perfect circle on the inside of your breast, and that's what pulls you under.
You're practically screaming, and Eddie still won't stop, letting you ride out the perfect feeling of him, maybe hoping you'll remember this moment the next time Steve sees you. Just the idea of meeting up with your friends again after this has you flushing so deep you think you might combust right here.
The sparks fade slowly, your pussy still shaking and empty, wet enough you're sure you've soaked Eddie's fingers and he finally relents, his plump, pink lips tracing your collar bones, stopping at the edge of your jaw. He takes the delicate skin their between his teeth and sucks, hard.
That jolts you from your stupor. You press his head back, one hand on his forehead so you can make him look you in the eyes.
"Hey—that's gonna bruise."
You're scolding has no effect; Eddie's on a different plane now, cocky from making you cum so easily and still a little peeved from earlier, pressing past your hold on him until he can reattach himself to your neck.
"Not sorry," he tells you, marking you up between staccato shifts of his hips, "wanna make sure everybody knows you're mine."
It's impenetrable logic—you couldn't argue with him if you wanted to, and you really, really don't want to when he makes his way to your mouth, kissing you, his tongue against yours and his hot, heavy breaths, one hand balled in the fabric of your tank top at the middle of your back.
"Turn around," he tells you, guiding you into compliance with his hands at your waist, and it makes you dizzy, feeling like you'd end up on the ceiling if Eddie didn't keep his grip on you, pulling you tight against him until your back meets his chest.
It’s like he's touching you everywhere, hands on your hips and your tits and pushing your hair up off your neck—looking for more skin that he hasn't painted yet—so you're not prepared when the chair falls back, left breathless and unmoored, staring at the stained upholstery on the roof of Eddie's van.
"You good?" Eddie asks in response to the gasp you let out, urging your hips into the air as he tugs your jeans and your underwear down around your thighs.
You just nod, too desperate for any explanation, to say anything at all. Eddie's turned you stupid, has you whining into his neck when you lean your head back on his shoulder, looking up at his jaw with wild, tear-filled eyes.
"Gonna ruin you for anybody else, sweetheart," he tells you over the sound of his jangling belt, his hot cock pressed against your back. "Gonna make sure you never leave me."
You nod, fucking rabid when he shifts and you can finally feel the fat tip of his dick at your entrance, smearing the first taste of his cum over your lips.
"Nobody else, Eddie," you promise him, "just you."
Eddie takes his cock in his hand, teasing it over your pussy, nudging it against your clit until you jump in his arms. He grips tighter at your waist, holding you just under your tits to keep you still.
"Promise?" he asks.
The tears that slip down your cheeks and onto his neck must be answer enough, because Eddie slides inside you, just the tip, and the relief at even this small feeling of fullness has you crying out.
Eddie's thrusts are methodical and relentless, slow at first, but they build quickly, his hips slamming into you, his grunts from exertion and from pleasure low in your ear. And you're moaning, too, like putty against him, totally enraptured as you watch the muscles in his jaw flex, beads of sweat collecting at his hairline.
He keeps hitting this spot inside you, has you full to the brim, and you're so wet you half-wonder if your pussy juice is soaking into the seat.
It feels like the van is rocking with the force of his thrusts, steam collecting around the edges of the windows from your shared breaths. It’s obscene how in to this you are, how loud it sounds, the wet squelch of your poor cunt echoing around the interior of his van.
"You're gonna cum for me, baby," he tells you, "wanna feel you squeezing my cock."
Four of his fingers meet at the top of your thighs, rubbing steady circles over your clit. You think you might be screaming.
Eddie has you cumming like you're being raptured, twitching in his lap, tits bouncing as he fucks into you, deeper than before until your vision blacks out and you can't see or feel or think of anything but perfect Eddie Munson and his perfect fucking cock.
It's dark when you come to. Maybe he fucked you blind.
Your vision returns, though, just in time. Eddie's chest heaves beneath you, and he pulls out with a grunt, his cum and yours dripping down your thighs in a sight so lurid it's got you flushing down to your neck.
That's definitely going to stain the upholstery.
Eddie doesn't seem to care, stroking his heavy hands over your thighs, pulling your clothes back into place—gentle where they had been rough, his mouth dotting soft kisses against the back of your spine.
Eddie shifts you around in his lap, let's his big eyes find yours. Your fingers twine with his, and he laughs a little when you kiss at his knuckles.
"You know," Eddie says, cheeks pink and a stupid smile on his face, "now that I think about it, Dirty Dancing might be my new favorite movie. I mean, who doesn’t love Patrick Swayze?"
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help-itrappedmyself · 3 months ago
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Dead on Main short part 2
This was not supposed to be this long. It just kept getting longer, just kept going. I found a cut-off point eventually, but there may actually be a part 3 to what was supposed to be a very short little piece. Whoops. (part 1)
Jason never had the time to be concerned about his words when he was young. Neither did anyone else around him. His dad couldn’t be bothered with anything to do with him, and Jason would have been surprised if Willis actually knew what his words were. His mother was more confused by them then anything else, and even then that was only in her rarer sober moments.
Then Jason moved in with Bruce. Dick wasn’t around much when he lived in the Manor. He had just started tolerating him when Jason had died. Dick probably knew what the words were, but they had never discussed it with each other, and Jason couldn’t begin to guess what his opinion was on them back then. 
Bruce used to entertain his fantasies of trying to think up different scenarios his words could be said in, both of them trying to make the funniest good outcome. It became a game they played when bored on stakeouts, obviously keeping the contents of the words private while playing. To be fair, there were a lot of good and funny scenarios. But they lived in Gotham, and Jason had experienced enough of the world, even at that young age, that he understood the likeliness of a bad scenario.
And then he died. And he didn’t think about his words for a very long time. Too busy training and plotting. Busy coming back to Gotham, enacting his plans and building a criminal empire. He barely remembered them himself until he was back in Gotham, operating as the Red Hood, with a trail of bodies behind him.
Assassin training, heads in a duffel bag, counts of arson, and leader of a gang, Jason was not the same kid he used to be. There were few scenarios in which his words could be said that he couldn’t come to understand. And he was at a point in his life where he could find room for a soulmate again. He was settled, secure as the anti-hero of Crime Alley, tenuous agreement with the Bats and all. He had even been by the Manor to have tea with Alfred. 
Arkham breakouts were old hat to everyone in Gotham. Citizens bunkering down, and Bats readying themselves to round up whoever made it out this time. However, this was the first Arkham breakout since his plan with Bruce and the Joker failed. The first since his agreement with the Bats to use non-lethal means. When Jason heard that it was the Joker that had broken out, he planned to kill him, truce be damned.
The Bats could probably deduce that, it was too soon into the truce for any real change to have been made. And this was the Joker. So now it was a race to see who could get to him first. 
Luckily (in this instance), Jason’s base is much closer to Arkham than the Bats. So while they are all stuck driving in from the better parts of town, Jason is already chasing the Joker down alleys. 
Joker is laughing, practically skipping away as if this is a game, and Jason almost loses him as he turns a corner he didn’t see. Jason can hear the Joker laughing, starting to speak. Probably to taunt him again. Then the sound cuts off with a choke and a thud.
Jason turns the corner to see Joker laid out flat, nose bleeding and neck at a funny ankle. A choked breath escapes him, and he looks around to see a man leaning against the alley wall.
The man’s hands are shaking, breaths choppy, and there's a bit of blood on his right hand.
Jason takes a deep breath, which causes the man to look at him out of the corner of his eye. Jason takes in the scene again. And then again, hardly daring to hope even with the evidence in front of him. 
“Is he dead?” Jason asks softly. The man turns to face him, and Jason takes a glove off and slowly, hesitantly, checks the Joker’s pulse.
“Look, in my defense…” The man trails off, looking to the heavens for a moment. “I really fucking hate clowns.” 
Jason, hope fully settled in as the Joker remains still and lifeless on the ground, pulse non-existent against his fingertips, almost laughs. Then his brain does a record scratch. Rewind. Replays the words ‘Look, in my defense’ over again, head shooting up to look at the man who just killed the Joker. 
Jason takes his other glove off, standing. He takes a step towards the man, pushing up his sleeve. The man seems nervous at his advance, watching him warily until Jason uncovers the words on his arm. The cover falls to the ground behind him as he takes another step forward. 
The man’s eyes light up in realization, and he also rushes to push up his sleeve. One more step forward and they are right in front of each other. Arms held up, brushing together as they show each other their marks.
Left forearms pressed together in the space in front of them, one reading ‘Is he dead?’ and the other “Look, in my defense.’. 
The man laughs and Jason takes in the sound of it, the happiness in his eyes as he looks up at him. Jason slowly reaches up to remove his helmet, domino still on underneath it, and lets it fall to the alley floor as well.
“You’re amazing.” Jason breaths out, hand reaching up to cup the stranger’s, his soulmate’s cheek. “You have no idea what you’ve just done for me.”
“Little bit of manslaughter.” He laughs. “Didn’t think it would be received this well.”
Jason smiles in response. “I would worship you for this, if you’d let me. I will never stop thanking you.” 
“Oh.” The man gasps, breath hitching. Jason, one hand still on his cheek, thumb stroking underneath his eye, places his other hand on the man’s waist and backs him up to the alley wall. Deliberately slowly, watching the man as he takes a deep breath, licks his lips, and lets himself be moved.
“Tell me your name and I’ll start right now.” Jason whispers.
“Danny.” The word is breathy and low, only heard due to Jason’s close proximity. 
“Danny.” Jason repeats his name like an anthem and a prayer. Prepared to give his life for this man already. And then kisses him, pressing his lips to his softly, reverently. Wanting to hold this moment forever.
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yuujispinkhair · 5 days ago
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THE SUMMONING - PART 2
You get hurt, and Sukuna learns the hard way that nothing is as terrifying as the thought of losing you
PART 1
Pairing: Trueform!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: fluff + smut + angst with a happy end Word Count: 4.5k Warnings: 18+, mentions of smut but nothing explicit, violence, blood, Reader gets attacked and almost dies, but Sukuna heals her, mentions of murder, mentions of cannibalism. All characters are of age. Minors don't interact. Divider @/benkeibear
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Sukuna still visits you every other day, his feet always carrying him back to your little hut in the middle of the woods. Back into your arms, back to this newly-discovered feeling he only gets when he is with you. This warmth, that he never knew before. This fluttery feeling, that fills his chest and makes a smile tug at his lips.
Here in your hut, Sukuna doesn't have to be on his guard all the time. He can let go and just feel. It's a kind of luxury he never had before. When he feels the soft caress of your skin against his. When your warmth envelops him. When he surprises himself by how tenderly he kisses you and how slowly he moves on top of you, inside you, treasuring every moment of your intimate union, committing every gasp falling from your lips to his memory, reveling in the feeling of your legs tightening around him and your fingers digging into the muscles of his broad back, right before his name falls from your lips in the sweetest cries.
Sukuna can't deny that he would like to see you every day. He craves your presence, your touch, your company. He would like to sleep curled around you every night in his bed in his temple. He would like to have you join him during his baths. He would like to have you sit across from him at every meal Uraume serves him.
But when he brings it up one evening when he and you are tangled up in your bed, bodies still hot and sweaty from your freshly spent passion, you smile and shake your head slightly,
"My place is here. I don't think I would be fit to be the woman by your side, my Lord."
Sukuna's first instinct is to bark a command, demanding you to obey him and come with him. Telling you that no one says no to the King of Curses. But he closes his mouth again before his lips can form any words like that. It doesn't feel right to say that to you.
Sukuna almost laughs out loud at the realization. He is a man used to taking what he wants, a man used to everyone kneeling before him and following his orders obediently or dying a gruesome death.
But it's different when he is with you. He doesn't want to scare you or force you to obey his wishes. He doesn't want to use his power and strength against you. No, when it comes to you, Sukuna cannot bring himself to do any of that.
What would your connection even be worth if he forced you to come with him? It would just be like everything else in his life. Empty and fake. Sometimes, Sukuna catches himself thinking that nothing in his life is real. Everyone is just playing an act around him, careful to please the monster they fear. So terrified of him that they do anything to avoid his anger. And others are constantly sucking up to him, wanting nothing more than using him for their own gain. All they care about is his power, his riches, his protection.
How refreshing it is to hear you say no to him. How refreshing it is to see how honest you are. How brave. Sukuna's heart swells with pride and admiration.
No, he won't force you to come with him. He doesn't want to taint what the two of you have. He doesn't want it to become nothingness, just like everything else in his life. When one can take anything he wants without resistance, everything slowly loses meaning. But what you and Sukuna have is meaningful, and Sukuna wants it to stay that way.
And so he just laughs gruffly and tightens his four arms around you, pressing himself against you from behind, wrapping his huge, muscular body around you, holding you at least for a few hours here in your bed, while he adds softly,
"You are the only one that is fitting to be the woman by my side. I hope you'll give it more thought and maybe change your mind, little one. But if not, I will just come find you here. But know that I won't ever take another woman. The place beside me is reserved for you."
Sukuna sees you lift your head and look at him with surprise written all over your face. You reach out, and your tiny hand cups his disfigured cheek oh so tenderly. Caressing him as if he isn't the monster that everyone fears. He leans into your tender touch like a starving man, his four eyes closing momentarily as he just lets himself bask in your loving touch.
Sukuna's enjoyment is still laced with fear. It still scares him what you do to him. How you managed to put him under your spell. He is so strong and powerful, but his heart feels so fragile since he found his way into your arms.
Sukuna sighs and rolls off you, gazing down at your small figure on the bed, letting his hands travel slowly down your naked skin from your shoulders down to your thighs before he straightens up, his hair almost brushing against the ceiling of your small hut.
"Sleep well. I'll come to visit you again soon."
The smile he gifts you is too tender to ever be shown in bright daylight, but here in the dim lighting of your hut, which is only illuminated by several small lanterns, Sukuna thinks it is safe to show such raw emotion.
He walks back to his temple through the nightly forest, taking his time, breathing in the cold night air that carries the earthy scents of the forest. On his clothes, he can also still smell the soup you cooked for him. And underneath that is another smell. Your scent. Flowers and herbs and magic mixed with the sweetness of your sweat and your arousal that is still clinging to Sukuna's skin.
A light chuckle escapes his lips as he slowly follows the narrow path through the forest. Yes, you truly awakened another side of him. Who would have thought that the feared monster could become so tame and so vulnerable for a tiny human woman?
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But Sukuna doesn't know just how vulnerable he made himself by falling for you until he returns to your hut three days later.
He is still quite a bit away when his nose catches the faint smell of smoke. His nostrils flare, and all four sapphire eyes scan the trees around him. His strong body is alert, his muscles taut, and his hands are balled into fists as he sniffs the air.
It is unmistakably a smell he is all too familiar with, a smell that he is often the cause of. The smell of destruction and violence. Blood and smoke.
Sukuna breaks into a run before he is even aware of it. He rushes through the forest, his large feet landing heavily on the soft forest trail. His breath is harsh in his ears, and his body is tense, every muscle ready to strike.
He can already sense the tragedy before he even reaches his destination. And he gets the cruel confirmation he dreaded when he enters the small clearing where your hut stands. Or rather used to stand. There is not much left of it.
A fire crackles loudly as the bright flames flicker in the soft breeze, swallowing the wooden structure. Your few belongings are scattered all over the forest floor. The pots you cook your delicious soup in, the little flasks with all the things you collect in the forest, your bedding on which Sukuna made you his over and over again just three nights ago, and the beautiful red silk scarf he brought you as a present, half of which is burned to ashes.
Sukuna has never known fear like this, as when he stands frozen in place, his four sapphire eyes wide open as he stares at the destruction before him. His chest feels so tight. The smoke fills his nostrils and his lungs, choking him. And even worse than that, there's also another all too familiar smell filling his senses. The metallic smell of blood. A scent Sukuna usually enjoys because it means food or that he had fun wreaking destruction. But today, the metallic dark red scent is making him nauseous.
He draws in a sharp breath, finally able to move again as his gaze darts around. He can see a trail of dark red liquid sticking grotesquely to the light green grass that your naked feet used to dance on.
Sukuna follows that trail, not like a hunter this time, but like a man walking toward his execution, mind reeling with dark thoughts, heart heavy, convinced that what he will find at the end of this red trail will bring his demise.
Because how could Sukuna still call himself alive if you were taken from him so cruelly? Was he even truly alive before he met you? Before you kissed him and loved him and treated him like a man instead of a monster?
Sukuna grits his jaw. Either this will lead to the ruin of the feared King of Curses, or it will lead to an even more terrifying rule of terror. He will burn everything to the ground, will burn the whole world down, will cut everything and everyone to pieces, will stand in the flames and watch them all burn and bleed and scream and beg for his mercy. But Sukuna will have none. He doesn't need this world if you aren't in it anymore! His kingdom will be worth nothing if he doesn't have his queen by his side. No one deserves to live when his beloved was taken from him!
Regret joins Sukuna's desperation and anger. Regret that he never told you the sheer extent of his feelings for you. That he didn't court you like he should have.
Sadness threatens to drown him when he thinks of all the half-finished poems lying around in his study in his temple, all his attempts to put into words what he feels for you. Would you have smiled if he had given you one? Would you even have been able to read those poems, or would Sukuna have had to read them to you? Would you have found them beautiful? Would you have understood how much you meant to him?
Did you die crying out for him? Did you die, not knowing that he... that he loved you?
Sukuna's nails dig painfully into his palms, drawing blood, causing wounds he doesn't even bother to heal. He forbids himself to dwell on those thoughts, accelerating his speed as he rushes through the forest.
Sukuna's strong legs sway for a split second when he spots your crumbled figure lying under a tall tree.
He is by your side in an instant, the King of Curses kneeling in the dirt, staining his beautiful white pants with your blood and the muddy dirt of the forest floor, but he doesn't care. His four thick arms instinctively reach out but then stop a mere breath away from your lifeless figure. Scared to touch, scared to cause even more damage.
When Sukuna finally touches you, it is gentle, almost timid. Just his fingertips ghosting over your bloodied skin. He sends his reverse cursed technique through his skin to yours. He doesn't dare breathe, fearing it will be a fruitless attempt.
Fearing you are already gone. Fearing you have already stepped over the threshold to the afterlife without him, lost and lonely, scared out of your mind because he didn't manage to protect you, even though he is the most powerful sorcerer, the most feared monster.
"No."
The word comes out in a broken whisper as Sukuna grabs you and pulls you into his lap, strong jaw clenching when he sees the damage the intruders did to you. The countless bruises, the scratches, the blood, the ripped clothes. A part of him dies in that forest as he stares down at the broken body of the one he loves.
"Come back to me, little one! Open your eyes! Look at me!"
Sukuna's voice sounds like the growl of a wild animal, too harsh and too loud in the otherwise eerily silent forest. He sends more reverse cursed technique through his fingertips, pressing them against your skin, almost crushing you in his urge to heal you.
Fear and anger are a dangerous combination. The words leaving Sukuna's lips are harsh, cruel even, demanding, filled with the desperation of a man who thinks he has lost everything,
"Don't you dare leave me, woman! Open your eyes! I didn't allow you to go! Your King demands you to look at him, you damn brat! Look at me! I forbid you to die!"
Sukuna's voice breaks at the last word. His vision is blurry, and he doesn't know why. Is it sweat running into his eyes? Is it the smoke from your burned-down hut? His face feels wet, and he wonders if it is your blood soaking his skin, marking him with the guilt he feels for not being there for you when you needed him.
Sukuna presses his teeth together. He feels light-headed. From the fear, from the guilt, from the sheer amount of power he is using to send all that reverse cursed technique through his fingertips to your cold, bruised skin. He doesn't care, though. He will give you more. Will give you all of him until he uses up all his strength.
If he cannot bring you back with his power, then he will just die here next to you. Will place his huge body over yours, protecting you from the wild animals who will surely soon be attracted by the scent of your flesh. But they will have to go through him first. At least he will be able to do that for you.
A broken, raw sound escapes Sukuna's throat at the same time as a small, barely audible gasp leaves your lips.
Your eyes open, looking weakly up at Sukuna, staring uncomprehendingly at him. Sukuna draws in a sharp breath, his large hands grabbing you tightly as if he is scared you will slip through his fingers again if he lets go of you. The wetness in his eyes is even worse now, clouding his vision, spilling over, running down his cheeks hot and wet.
Your tiny hand comes up weakly to cup his cheek, just like you always do, gently caressing the black markings on his face and wiping away the strange wetness on his face.
"Sukuna... oh Sukuna. You came. I knew it. I knew you would find me in time."
You speak the words as if you never doubted he would save your life. As if you are completely convinced that your fates are entangled until the end of time. And maybe it truly is like that.
Sukuna lets out a relieved breath. He leans into your gentle touch, turning his face so he can press a kiss to the inside of your palm. He can taste your blood on his lips and the salty taste of what must be his own tears.
How strange. He can't remember ever crying before. Not even when he was just a starving, abandoned child who wandered through the streets looking for a way to survive. Not even when everyone called him a monster and threw stones at him had he ever spilled any tears. But you... you bring out so many new things in him. It's terrifying and beautiful in equal parts.
But right now, all that Sukuna feels is relief. Relief so immense that it makes him grin broadly at you, his chest filled with tingling exhilaration, his mind light-headed as he lets his gaze wander over you, watching your wounds close again, watching the life come back into your eyes.
Just looking at you isn't enough, though. Sukuna needs to touch you, needs to feel your skin becoming warm under his palms, needs to feel your heartbeat under his hand. He needs to make sure you are truly breathing, living, part of this world again. Part of his world. Or maybe not just part of Sukuna's world, but his whole world.
His large hands run over your body restlessly, still sending his healing powers into your skin.
"How are you feeling? Does it still hurt somewhere?"
You shake your head, a dreamy expression in your eyes as you look up at him.
"I feel good. You healed me. Thank you."
A weak but genuine smile lifts your lips, making Sukuna gulp hard. He can't look into your eyes for too long, or he fears you will see too much of the raw emotions cursing through him. Instead, he inspects your body scrutinizingly, checking for even the smallest scratch.
Sukuna is satisfied with what he sees. Your wounds have closed beneath the dried blood. All the broken bones are fixed again. His little fragile bird is whole again. Its broken wings are fixed again.
Regardless, one of Sukuna's large hands is slipping under the torn fabric of your robe, cupping your left breast, pressing his palm against your naked skin, feeling your heartbeat fluttering underneath it, counting it, waiting until it has settled into the familiar, strong rhythm it always has when he rests his head on your chest after making love to you on your small bed.
Finally, Sukuna dares to let his gaze wander to your face, his voice rough when he asks,
"Who did this to you?"
You shake when you tell him what happened. How a group of men came up to your hut as you were cooking, how they instantly attacked you, demanding you to hand over all of your belongings. They took everything of worth from you and then set fire to your home before they proceeded to attack you while laughing and telling you that you wouldn't get out this alive. You tried to run from them, fleeing into the forest, but they caught you again.
You can't describe them other than they had dark hair and black clothes, but Sukuna doesn't need more than that. He can still smell them on you.
He makes sure that you are comfortable, slipping out of his haori to carefully put it under your head as a cushion. Telling you to rest and that he will be back in a short time. He takes your hands in his and brings them to his lips, kissing your knuckles, his blue eyes burning into yours as if he is trying to make you understand he will do anything to make up for his mistake.
Sukuna moves through the forest with all his senses sharpened. In his hunting mode again. The powerful predator chasing his prey. The merciless monster looking for the kill. He can smell the stench of your attackers and can easily follow their trail down a narrow path through the forest.
He hunts them down quickly and finds the small camp they set up by the river, where they cook fish over a fire and laugh and chat as if they didn't just try to take everything from him.
Their laughter stops the moment they see the large, strong figure break through the underwood. And the laughter turns into screams of terror when Sukuna smirks cruelly at them as he snaps his fingers to slash their Achilles tendons, stopping them effectively from running from his wrath.
Now, Sukuna's laughter fills the air as he watches them fall into the muddy grass, scrambling desperately in their attempt to crawl away from him, screaming and begging. Begging for mercy he doesn't have.
"You laid your hands on what is mine. Now, you will suffer the punishment for it."
"Please let us go, Sukuna-sama! We didn't do anything wrong! We serve you devotedly! We would never attack any of the villages under your protection! It was just a useless woman!"
"Silence, insect! I didn't allow you to speak to me. That woman is mine. How dare you touch what belongs to me!"
He sees the comprehension settle over their faces, all hope leaving their eyes as they realize what they did. A satisfied smirk spreads over Sukuna's face as he slowly walks towards them, laughing when he sees their futile, pathetic attempts to crawl away. To escape from The King of Curses. From the God Ryomen Sukuna.
He stops only a few steps away from them, gazing down at them with cold hatred burning in his blue eyes.
"Usually, I would tell my loyal servant to come here and pick up your dead flesh after I am finished with you so they can cook it for me. But rotten people like you don't deserve the honor of being eaten by me. You will decay here in the dirt, getting eaten by worms and other animals."
Their screams, when he uses his power to slice them open and tear them apart oh so slowly, are sweet to Sukuna's ears. But it's not enough. Killing them didn't bring him the peace he hoped it would.
Sukuna knows there is only one place where he will feel better. By your side.
He hurries back to you, the tension leaving his strong body when he sees you sitting up where he left you, wrapped into his haori, hugging yourself and smiling at him. That sweet, warm smile that is always so full of affection.
Sukuna is by your side in a heartbeat, swooping you off the ground and into his arms, cradling you to his broad chest. You laugh, but he can still hear how shaken you are, and it almost breaks him. He feels sick. Sick at the thought of the pain and fear you had to endure. Sick at the thought of what almost happened. How he almost lost you forever.
Sukuna's arms tighten around you, his low voice rough and determined when he tells you,
"You're coming with me. Enough is enough. It isn't fitting for my lover to live out here in the woods anyway, and it surely isn't fitting for my future bride."
Your eyes widen at the word bride, but you smile softly at him, a small hand coming up to touch his chest, resting on his buff pectoral muscles,
"Alright, bring me to your temple until I fully recover. Maybe you can help me rebuild my hut afterward..."
Sukuna laughs gruffly as he presses a tender kiss to your blood-stained forehead. Even now, you so desperately want to stand on your own feet. But it's a small victory, at least. He can bring you to his home, take care of you, make sure you are wrapped in the softest silk, and eat the most nurturing meals to get you back to perfect health.
And who knows, maybe once you have seen the life Sukuna can offer you, you will finally let him have his way and keep you forever.
So Sukuna starts walking. He carries you all the way to his temple and smiles when he hears your soft gasp upon seeing its sheer size.
He tells Uraume to get clothes for you and everything else a woman might need.
"And make sure everything is of the finest quality. I only want the best for my betrothed."
Uraume raises a curious eyebrow at that but bows respectfully and replies with the usual politeness,
"Of course, Lord Sukuna. I will get the finest garments and items for your Lady."
You protest even in your weakened state, claiming that you don't need anything special and that you are used to living a simple life in the woods. But Sukuna just hums softly and carries you deeper into the temple.
"Oh, little one, I know you aren't here for my riches, but just let me spoil you a little bit, at least."
You sigh and snuggle against his naked chest, murmuring something about how good he is to you, and Sukuna can't help but make a strange noise, a low rumble deep in his chest, almost like a purr.
He carries you straight into his bedchamber. A place that is usually sacred to him. So private that no one is allowed in here apart from his loyal servant Uraume.
Sukuna gently lays you down on his bed, careful not to hurt you, gazing down at you with his four sapphire eyes full of love. Finally, the suffocating tightness in his chest vanishes, and Sukuna feels at ease again.
So far, Sukuna has only shared your small bed in your hut with you. But now you will share his bed with him, a huge bed the size of half your hut, with sheer endless silk pillows and luxurious sheets. No one else was ever allowed in here. But when it comes to you, all his former rules don't apply anymore.
Sukuna trusts you. And he wants you here. He wants to share his bed with you, wants to share his whole life with you.
You are his beloved, his woman, his bride.
Sukuna lets his eyes slowly travel over you. Your body is so small compared to his huge bed, but you look so comfortable, and your skin looks so beautiful against his red silken bedsheets. You meet his gaze, looking up at him with trust and love in your eyes. The way you always look at him, despite him being who he is and looking the way he does.
Sukuna smiles at you as he tenderly brushes the hair out of your face.
"Rest now, my love. You are safe here."
He sits on the side of the bed, watching you and petting your hair as you drift off to sleep.
Sukuna can't help but think that this is where you belong. In his temple. In his bed. He hopes you will stay forever. And if not, he will have to find ways to convince you. He will not risk losing you again.
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THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!! It's been a while since I wrote the first part of this story, but I couldn't get this version of Sukuna out of my mind again. I am so happy that I finally finished Part 2!
I hope you enjoyed it and that you would like to be Sukuna's bride after reading this 💗💗 I certainly do ;)
Comments and reblogs would be very sweet 💗
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seung-mong · 8 months ago
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everyone adores you (i hate that i do too) - kim seungmin
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includes: seungmin x reader, friends to enemies to strangers to friends to lovers?? (kinda academic rivals vibe) college au, soft dom! seungie, everyone knows they r in love except them, kinda slow burn? idk, fluff, angst, quick vanilla smut scene at the end, unprotected sex, possessive seungmin, creampie oopsie woopsie, felix is lowk seungmin's downfall lmao
a/n: the people have chosen, thank u for those who voted on the poll!! i know this is so ridiculously late but ive been in a writer's funk lately and ive just been so unmotivated #rant anyway i hope you guys like this one:') chan x hybrid felix x reader up next?? :00
wc: 12k YAPPING ofc my longest fic is of my husband #seungminlover #myMan
"there's nothing i can do for you, mr. kim. you failed to submit the third reflection essay. i have been considerate with your other late submissions..." the middle aged professor sighs, bringing a hand to his forehead and massaging his temples in frustration.
seungmin's hands wrap tighter around the strap of his bag, nylon almost burning against his palm due to the friction. "mr. park," he almost whines, leaning forward in his chair.
seungmin's desperate. he needs to pass this class, a prerequisite to all of his majors. he'll be damned if he takes his classes later than everyone else. "please, there must be something i can do. anything for extra credit. i really really need to pass this class." his voice slightly breaks, so close to tears. he can feel the red hot embarrassment that washes over him at the thought of having to explain why he cant enlist in the same classes as his friends.
he's never gonna hear the end of it when he tells his parents, always hard on his ass about biting off more than he can chew and he's always shrugged them off. how is everything so different now? in highschool he was juggling acads, being president of the student council, being in choir, dance, band, and the debate team. and now? four classes and a stupid glee club and hes falling behind.
his worst fear.
the older man swallows thickly, obviously uncomfortable at his student's sudden show of vulnerability. "mr. kim, i really want to help you. but im afraid there's no extra work i can give you to help you raise your grade.
seungmin shakes his head, slumping deep in his seat.
"normally i'd offer that you could check some papers and-"
"i'll do it!" seungmin yells, almost jumping out of his seat.
"but another student has already offered to be my teaching assistant for this term for extra credit as well.... unless you could convince them to split the workload... id consider raising your grade."
"sir, anything! who do i have to convince?" seungmin lets out a sigh of relief. and he thought all hope was lost.
"miss y/l/n. do you know her?"
fuck. all hope is lost.
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you huff as you push open the heavy metal doors to your apartment building, canvas bag filled to the brim with papers you're supposed to check. the weight is heavy on your shoulder, strap digging uncomfortably into your skin. the sting lingers as you waddle over to your apartment locker, dropping the bag as you dig into your coat pocket for your keys.
"oh, y/n! im glad i caught you." you turn around to see a kind face smiling at you from the foot of the stairs, long blonde hair tied somewhat neatly to keep strands away from his neck. stubborn clumps of hair fall over his forehead, sticking to the skin in a thin sheen of sweat.
"hyunjin?" you squeal, leaving all your bags right there on the floor as you run towards your childhood friend. your arms wrap around his neck as he laughs, arms coming up to wrap around your waist. you nearly knock him off his feet from the force that you throw yourself at him, but he cant blame you. it has been way too long.
"but... what are you doing here? i thought you were still in paris?" you chuckle, breathless as you pull apart from him.
"non!," he teases, but his smile quickly shifts. "due to some, ah- unfortunate circumstances, i had to return home a little earlier than i had planned," he shrugs, grabbing your arm and hooking it with his.
"oh cut the bullshit, hwang." you laugh, pulling him towards your locker. "tell me what happened," you groan, bending down to pick up your bag. hyunjin, ever the gentleman, quickly reacts from beside you, taking it away from you before slinging it over his own shoulder. "tell me what really happened, hm? it's me." you huff, punching him lightly on the shoulder.
he smiles sadly at you, shaking his head. he knows he cant lie to you. "how about we catch up over a cup of coffee, huh? my, ive been looking all over campus for you and when we finally meet after three years you dont even invite me in?" he pouts at you.
you roll your eyes at his dramatics. nice to know he hasnt changed that about himself. dare you say paris has only fed his dramatic flare? "let's go have some coffee somewhere else then, my apartment's kinda messy right now. oh! have you told felix you're back? you guys are... okay now, right?" you're careful to watch his expression at the mention of his past lover.
"no, he doesnt know im home. it kinda defeats the whole purpose of the surprise, you know?" he retorts, watching you with a fond smile as you shove your phone and keys back into your pockets. "and yes. felix and i are alright, thank you for asking."
"well, i'm sure he'd love to see you again. i know where he's working. maybe we could drop by for some drinks?"
hyunjin hums thoughtfully at that, chuckling a bit once you push open the damned metal door. "i guess it wouldnt hurt to say hello? besides. we have been... talking again."
"oh is that so?" you feign disinterest, eyes trained on the leaves that crunch under your feet.
he hums once more, squinting when he looks up, the sun beaming against his face. how he's missed its' warmth. paris was often gloomy. "we discussed possibly trying again." he says calmly, sighing with content.
you falter, "that might be good. ive always known you guys still loved each other! besides, you guys were young and stupid."
"that we were." hyunjin laughs. "well how about you and... ah- he who must not be named?"
you tense a little at that, opting to play it off with a shrug. "havent seen him around much, actually."
"well that's odd. you three were the only ones from our highschool to pass SNU and you guys dont keep in touch?"
"well i dont keep in touch with people from highschool much." you bite back.
"well how about me and felix?" he challenges.
"yea. just you two."
"arent you two in the same major?"
"we have different schedules. never aligns."
"but yuna and lia said-"
"i just dont see seungmin much, alright? that's that!" you groan, shoving your hands into your pockets.
"oh my dear y/n, nothing has changed! have you tried to patch things up with him? after all we were, hm what did you say, ah- young and stupid?"
"well he certainly was." you mumble, and hyunjin bursts out laughing. he throws an arm over your shoulder, pulling you closer against his side. "god, i've missed you."
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felix absolutely adores his job. he gets to help bake in the kitchens in the morning, and then he gets to make such fun little drinks while listening to music he chooses. he loves his coworkers, and his schedule is flexible, what with the manager knowing how most of his staff are all college students. the one thing he hates though? dealing with rude customers.
"i apologize, sir. our drinks are served in plastic cups as most of our customers dont finish their drink here, it's easier to take out in case you need to leave in a hurry." felix can feel the sweat start to form at his hairline, trickling slowly down his forehead as his cheeks twitch in a forced smile.
"well if i knew you served it in plastic cups, i never would have ordered!" the middle-aged man in front of him yells, eyebrows raised. students in the cafe have started to look over, trying hard to be discreet. some look annoyed, others clearly show how they feel sorry for felix.
felix tries his best to keep his smile, but he can feel anger and annoyance rise in him like hot water boiling deep in his gut.
"what the fuck is the difference??" he wants to scream, grab the stupid plastic cup from his stupid chubby fingers and throw it right in his stupid ugly face.
"im sorry sir, is there some kind of problem here?" a calm voice calls from behind the man, who turns around in surprise.
seungmin stands with his hands in his pockets, a small smile on his lips. he's dressed in nothing fancy, a university hoodie and some sweatpants. he's only supposed to catch up with felix as he busies himself around the cafe after all. his hair is tucked neatly in his cap, the perfect image of your average college student.
felix swears he's an angel sent from the heavens.
"this is none of your business, kid." the man snorts disgustingly, waving a chubby finger in seungmin's face.
"well, actually this is a public space and you're holding up the line. so yea, it kinda is my business. besides, you're on university grounds, i have every right to be here as a student." seungmin says coolly, taking a step towards the counter so he's able to somewhat position himself in between felix and this gross ugly man.
"listen, i'm a paying customer, so-"
"and the staff has the right to refuse service to anyone unless on the basis of race, religion, or ethnicity- isn't that right, felix?"
and its like suddenly felix has found his voice. he stands a little taller, leaning forward to get closer to the man's face. "that's right."
"and you're not refusing to serve this man because hes white or anything, right?" seungmin eggs him on, throwing the man a somewhat bored look.
"no. its because hes an asshole."
"hey-" the man steps forward, hands raised.
"well you heard him!" seungmin cuts the man off before he can continue, fully stepping in front of felix now. "if you dont leave within the next ten seconds, i'm calling security. they take peace and order on school grounds very seriously, you know?"
the man huffs, turning around and slamming the door behind him so hard that the little bell that jingles near the doorframe rattles wildly seconds after he's left.
"i dont know how you deal with assholes like that, felix. id probably lose my mind." seungmin sighs, throwing his friend a tight lipped smile.
"you kinda get used to it. but i've just been so tired this finals week that i dont even have the energy to stand up for myself anymore." felix shakes his head while he wipes the counter down.
seungmin nods understandingly, lunging for the man's untouched drink before felix can throw it. "this is paid, isn't it?"
"well, yes but-"
"alright, felix look. i have a problem." seungmin slides easily into one of the stools by the counter, taking a deep sip of the man's mystery drink.
felix nods in understanding, rearranging trays and cleaning up as much as he can.
"well actually, it's more of a favor? i dont know."
felix only hums, used to seungmin's rambling by now. seungmin's just like that, needs to talk to himself aloud a little before getting straight to the point.
"im actually screwed and there's no one else i can talk to because well, there's no more shame between us, yea? we've seen each other naked and ive seen you at your lowest low and youve been there for me and-"
"wow, this is pretty serious, huh?" felix jokes, pulling up a stool so he can sit in front of his friend.
"i think i'm gonna fail a class." seungmin spits out, holding his breath immediately after as he gauges his friend's reaction.
felix's smile slowly disappears. his mouth opens and closes like a fish as he tries to figure out what to say, in a state of total shock. this goes on for about five minutes before seungmin finally whines, head dropping to his hands.
"will you say something i can actually understand, felix?"
"i'm sorry i just- i dont understand. you're.... failing? you? kim seungmin? the kim seungmin?"
"wow you really know how to comfort a guy, huh?"
"i'm sorry!" felix jumps up to pull seungmin in for a half-hug, awkwardly wrapping his arms around seungmin's chest over the counter. "i just... how? why? what subject? are you sure?"
"yes, im sure. i missed a stupid submission. a major subject. look, thats not the worst part-"
"omigod you're dying. thats the only explanation-"
"no!" seungmin whines, pushing his friend off him. "the professor said he could give me extra credit-"
"but thats good news!"
"-if im able to convince... someone.... to split the task given to them with me."
"o...kay? just turn on your puppydog charm and you're good to go."
seungmin shakes his head, as if he's about to deliver such solemn news to felix that he has to pause for dramatic effect. felix rolls his eyes.
"it's... well the person is y/n."
felix stares at his friend with wide eyes, unblinking. then he tilts his head back and lets out the most obnoxious laugh, losing his breath as his neck turns a deep shade of red, the tint spreading across his cheeks all the way to the tips of his ears.
"you're joking! oh this is just too- oh, i cant breathe, ITS KARMA!" he suddenly yells, fighting for his life to breathe in as much air as possible, wiping the tears from his eyes.
seungmin winces, but deep down he knows this reaction is deserved.
his relationship with you is... a little complicated.
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you met seungmin in your freshman year of highschool. you'd just moved to seoul, the New Girl. as batch rep, he was tasked with showing you around on your first day, teaching you the ropes and making you feel welcomed.
"well yea, thats basically it!" seungmin finishes, pace slowing down as he directs you to the bench just opposite the school clinic. "do you have any questions for me?" he asks with a slight tilt of his head.
your eyes stay trained on the floor, as they have been the past 30 minutes that this strange boy has toured you around the school. you shake your head. seungmin doesnt fully understand it yet, but somewhere deep down, he feels bad for you. you seem like the shy type, and he knows how hard it is to adjust and make new friends. god knows how he would have survived middle school if it weren't for his friends.
"hey, what do you say you come meet my friends tomorrow during lunch break?" he suddenly asks. for the first time since his homeroom teacher introduced you, you look up at him.
he's taken aback by how pretty your eyes are.
"oh, really?" you ask timidly, voice small.
"i- i mean yea! we're in the same homeroom anyway, right? plus i think it'll help you adjust a little better if you had people you could talk to and hang out with." seungmin shrugs.
"yea. i'd really like that. thank you, seungmin." your voice is so low its almost like you're mumbling.
before you know it, you're spending your lunch breaks laughing along with felix as he embarrasses all of seungmin's friends one by one, wincing away from changbin as he threatens to lunge across the table to shut the younger boy up, hyunjin clinging dramatically onto his boyfriend's side instead of defending him.
you're spending your weekends at seungmin's house as chan makes you all listen to his new demo, han turning red in the face when his verse comes on. you're walking to school with jeongin- arms full of convenience store goodies as you make fun of your grumpy old maths teacher, leeknow following quietly behind you both, scolding you when you get too close to the road.
before you know it, you've found yourself a group of friends who makes highschool just that much bearable.
seungmin's completely enamored by you, coming to learn that you're at the top of every class that you have (except the ones you have with him, of course). you're just as ambitious as he is, joining the debate team and the mock un club, quickly joining the officers despite being a new student.
he's somewhat threatened by you, though he'd never admit it to himself, or to anyone else for that matter. you score higher than him in statistics, and he cant help the ugly feeling that settles in his chest when you show your paper to him, a bright blue 100 circled at the top.
he tries not to let it get to him, changing his mindset into seeing it as a healthy competition, a way for him to challenge himself even more in to doing better than you. it feeds his competitive side, staying longer than you in the library, sleeping later than you, reading more books.
this one sided competition makes him feel conflicted. he's out for your blood, and yet you're the same sweet, shy girl he's always been close to. you spend most of your time with seungmin, studying with him at his house, sleeping over when you've realized its way past ten in the evening, sneaking out of his house for a quick convenience store run.
"min, i'm hungry! lets go down to the store." you'd whine, voice slightly muffled against his soft sheets, tucked nice and warm under his blankets.
"go home, you've finished all the food here." he'd tease, not even bothering to look away from his homework.
"cant. you'd miss me after an hour." you'd retort, reaching blindly behind you for a plushie to throw at the back of his head.
"suppose that's true. can't help but be used to your presence when you're here nearly every day," he'd feign annoyance, exhaling loudly through his nose.
you'd pout at him when he'd finally turn in his chair to look over at you, already so at home, snuggling even deeper into his bed.
you really do have such pretty eyes.
"fine. grab your coat." and he'd try hard to fight his smile at the sound of your delighted squeals.
you found a way to break through his walls, chip away at the cement and reduce it to a fine dust which you've blown away. but he stands unguarded all the same, not even bothering to put up a fight when you wrestle your way into his heart.
he'd like to keep you there, he thinks.
sometimes he'd lie to himself and say that he tried. by your senior year, he managed to ruin the one good thing in his life.
how stupid was he?
amazing, really. how he was able to throw away three years of friendship for fifteen minutes of fame.
"how could you do this to me?" you hiss, dropping your backpack onto the floor of seungmin's bedroom. his back is faced towards you, gently shutting his door before he leans his forehead on it. he takes a deep breath, gathering enough courage to face you.
"y/n, i-"
"you embarrassed me in front of everyone. you told them everything, things i told you in confidence because i fucking trusted you. how could you do this to me, seungmin? how could you fucking do this to me?" your tears are hot, angry against your cheeks as you pace around his room. your voice grows louder with every word, reaching a scream when you stand in front of him.
"i wasn't thinking, y/n. i-"
"and for what? to make me look bad?" you laugh hollowly, hands flying to your hair in disbelief. "to make me look like some poor, fucking loser who's so mentally unstable she can't possibly become president of student council? was that your angle?"
there's a lump in seungmin's throat and no matter how hard he swallows, it just wont go down. he opens his mouth to speak, to defend himself, but his mouth has gone dry and his tongue tastes like sand.
"what the fuck is wrong with you? i thought we were friends? i thought we were best friends, seungmin? how could you air out all my shit like that? for a couple of votes? do you know how pathetic you are? is that how bad you want to be president? you're willing to throw me under the bus to make yourself look good?" you can taste the salty tears pooling in your mouth, snot slowly dripping down and creating a sticky mess on your face.
but you're too angry to care.
your chest hurts, like someone's kicked you to the ground and continuously stomped right in between your ribcage in an attempt to squash your heart. your head hurts from dehydration, and your neck is starting to feel sticky from the sweat that's pooled at the collar of your uniform.
"was this your master plan? you found out i was running against you so you sucked up to me, kept me close so you could get all the dirt? you fucking traitor, i cant believe i actually trusted you." your throat has gone raw from all the yelling, can feel the way your voice starts to come out hoarse.
"y/n, please. i'm so sorry i dont know what i was thinking. i just... when they asked me why they should vote for me my mind blanked and i-" he tries to get everything out as fast as he can, terrified you'll cut him off and start yelling again. but he can't continue because, holy shit, even he doesn't know why the fuck he did what he did.
"and you what? made me look fucking stupid so you rambled on for fifteen minutes about how much of a horrible person i am. god, if thats what you thought of me you shouldve let me know, seungmin! i couldve walked out of your life if i made you that miserable." you're starting to heave, all the air in the room suddenly disappearing.
"no, dont say that y/n. you're the best thing about me, you're my best fr-"
seungmin feels dizzy when your palm lands on his right cheek.
you cant stop sobbing, hands clutching at your chest as you shake your head. "fuck you," you whisper.
seungmin is stunned, frozen in the middle of his room with his mouth slightly open. he says nothing, does nothing as he watches you bend down weakly to grab your bag, sobbing through the motions of slinging it over your shoulders.
but then the panic starts to kick in when you push past him, your fingers reaching for his doorknob. his instincts kick in and hes wrapping his hand around your wrist.
"please don't go, please let's talk about this." his voice cracks. when did he start crying?"
you pause, and for a moment seungmin can feel the weight on his shoulder lift, all hope is not lost.
"its good to know where your priorities lie, seungmin. now i know you'll do anything to get ahead. even if that means hurting me." you tried to sound strong, but your voice comes out broken, a whimper.
"dont speak to me ever again."
you pull your hand away from him.
the weight on his shoulders is suddenly crushing.
and when he gave his acceptance speech in front of the entire student body, he frantically searched for your face. his heart dropped when his eyes locked with yours. eyes that once looked at him with so much warmth, care, and love- stared soullessly back at him.
he knew he fucked up the best thing in his life.
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by the time you reach felix's cafe, hyunjin's whining had started to get on your nerves.
"i didn't ask you to carry it," you remind him, reaching for the strap.
he turns his body away from you, clutching your tote tighter against his side. "as if i'd let you carry this!"
yes, he was a gentleman. but a dramatic ass one.
"id honestly rather carry my bag than have to listen to you whine about how heavy it is."
"but it is so heavy! what the fuck did you put in here, rocks?"
you only roll your eyes, pushing open the glass door to the establishment. the tiny bell above the doorframe rings, announcing your arrival to the blonde boy behind the counter.
"oh my god, its soobin." you whisper under your breath, elbowing hyunjin in the ribs. he only looks at you puzzled, an eyebrow raised.
"he's so cute, ohmygod." you roll your eyes, quickly checking your blurry reflection on the glass door.
"not my type," hyunjin shrugs. you ignore him, walking straight to the counter.
"oh, hey soob!" you greet him, quickly shushing hyunjin when he starts to mock your airy tone. "is felix here?" you smile sweetly, trying to tame your hair from the mess caused by the strong winds outside.
"oh yea, he's over there in the booth by the window. he's not alone though," he says, wiping down the counter after spilling a few shaves of ice.
"oh, who's he with?" you ask, already making your way down the counter.
"dunno, the dude looks kinda stressed, to be honest." he shrugs, turning away from you when the bell lets him know he's got another customer to serve.
he's with a guy? he's not on a date is he? no- he wouldve told you. besides, he wouldnt have led hyunjin on either.
hyunjin follows behind you as you make your way towards the booth, heaving dramatically as he swings your tote bag off his shoulders. he crouches behind you, snickering to himself as you both slowly walk to the table, strands of felix's hair peeking out from the opposite bench.
"surprise!" hyunjin jumps from behind you, smile swiftly morphing into a face of shock, his mouth forming a small 'o'.
"holy shit, hyune! what are you doing here?"
your heart drops to the pit of your stomach. that voice-
"s-seungmin, i didnt know you were with felix."
you freeze, jaw dropped as seungmin stands. he clearly hasn't seen you yet, back facing you as he pulls hyunjin in for a hug, squeezing him tightly.
"i thought you were in paris?" felix squeals, sliding out of the booth and joining the three for a big bear hug. he's the one who finally notices you a few feet away, his smile dropping.
"y/n." he breathes, eyes wide.
when seungmin turns around, its almost as if in its slow motion.
he looks almost exactly the same, his hair a little longer, shaggier. his eyes look more tired, little bags under his eyes give away the sleepless nights he's become familiar with. his cheeks slowly turn a light pink, dusting across his nose all the way to the tip of his ears. he's dressed the way you remember him, loose comfy clothes.
he looks good, you think. you shake the thought away.
"oh, y/n." seungmin's voice is small as he locks eyes with you.
fuck, your eyes.
his first time seeing you in three years and he hates how you manage to steal his breath away. you've changed your hair, cut it a little shorter and dyed it lighter. you've pierced your ears, little sunflower earrings peaking from beneath your hair. you look so much more mature, your style has definitely changed.
but your eyes, they shine just as bright as he remembers. good to know his memory hasnt failed him yet.
"i didn't know you were coming, y/n." felix shoots you an apologetic glance, lips pursed and eyes wide.
"but i always come visit you on thursdays." you say flatly.
"yea but-"
"awh look! it's been a while since we've all seen each other, huh?" hyunjin cuts in, trying desperately to ease the tension. seungmin stays standing still, gawking stupidly at you. you try your best to pretend like you cant feel his gaze.
"yea, some of us made that decision on purpose." you mutter under your breath, but you don't miss the way seungmin's eye twitch.
felix smiles, lacing his hand with hyunjin's. "it's really been too long," he whispers, as if only meant for his lover.
"i'd really love if we could all spend some time together." hyunjin's eyes find yours, wide and pleading. "please?"
you offer him a tight lipped smile.
its already so awkward, the way felix and hyunjin slide naturally into the booth, beginning to chatter away. it leaves you and seungmin standing, stubbornly avoiding eye contact.
"do you- do you want to sit near the window, or?" seungmin's voice is small, eyes glued to the floor.
you shrug.
he nods, climbing in anyway. you take a deep breath before you move, reluctantly climbing onto the booth after him. you leave a considerable amount of space between the two of you, and seungmin can't help but roll his eyes.
it's been nearly three years, he thinks. how are you still holding a grudge against him? he clears his throat, about to start some small talk, but something stops him. maybe its the way you deliberately angle your body away from him, or the way you pull your phone out to scroll aimlessly, almost as if you were anticipating his move.
"so, how was paris?" seungmin asks hyunjin instead, shifting his body away from you. fine, be like that. at least hes not immature enough to make things awkward on purpose.
"oh, it was so romantic!" hyunjin exclaims, throwing his arm over felix's shoulder and resting it on the back of their booth. "it was a little depressing, actually. being in such a beautiful place all alone."
"well yea, but it was worth it right? who wouldve thought your one true love was right here all along." you tease, wiggling your eyebrows up and down.
"yea so is yours!" hyunjin teases you back. you only stick your tongue out.
beside you, seungmin tenses. surely, hyunjin isnt implying that he could be your true love, could he? the thought makes chest ache, an odd yearning to move closer to you, to let his fingers "accidentally" brush against yours-
"oh, soobin!" felix giggles, catching on.
seungmin's always hated that guy. from the moment he met soobin thirty minutes ago, he knew something was off. you can't date soobin, he wouldnt know how to take care of you. with his stupid blonde hair, his stupid bunny smile, his stupidly large eyes.
he bets soobin doesnt even know what your favorite type of ramen is, what your go-to snacks are, what your favorite flavor of ice cream is. important things that a lover should know.
things he knows.
oh, where'd that thought come from?
"shut up, you guys!" you hiss, checking to see if soobin is within earshot. you frown at felix, swatting across the table at his chest.
"what do you mean? you guys would look so cute together." hyunjin argues, quickly turning to catch a glimpse of soobin. you hide your face in your hands, profusely shaking your head as you sink deeper into the booth.
seungmin cant help the feeling of jealousy that bubbles deep in his gut. hes half scared hes going to projectile vomit all over the table when you straighten yourself out, sneaking a peek at the blonde boy who busies himself with creating a customer's drink.
"im probably not his type." you mumble.
"you're not." seungmin's shocked at the word that's slipped, hand quickly coming up to cover his mouth in shock.
all eyes are on him, and he can see the way you look at him, with your empty eyes staring right at his face. he hates it when you look at him like that, misses the way your eyes used to shine just for him.
"actually you know what, im getting kinda tired, i think im gonna go home instead." you blurt out, already reaching for your bag.
hyunjin's hand finds yours on the table, and he squeezes gently. "really?"
you swiftly pull your hand away. "yes. really."
"you know what, it doesnt matter. i actually made a reservation for us lixie. wasn't planning on staying long anyways. just wanted to surprise you." hyunjin sings sweetly, brushing away a stand of hair that had fallen on felix's cheek.
"yea, i think i'm gonna head home too." seungmin clears his throat.
just then, the sound of thunder roars outside, clouds a dark grey as they hang low.
fuck. just when you decided not to bring an umbrella.
"yea, i think we better get going. dont wanna get caught in the rain." felix sighs, gathering his stuff and offering hyunjin his hand.
"dont you have spare umbrellas here, lix? maybe we could borrow them. you know, just in case." as if on cue, the rain starts to come down heavily, droplets splattering against the window.
"yea, but there's only two." felix mutters, quickly slipping behind the counter to grab two black umbrellas leaning against the wall. "hyunjin and i can share, and maybe you and y/n-"
"i'm fine." you say stubbornly, arms crossed in front of your chest.
you'd rather die than spend two seconds alone with kim seungmin.
"oh dont say that, you'll get drenched and catch a cold." hyunjin sighs, grabbing one of the umbrellas from felix's hand and offering it to you.
"i'd actually prefer that, thanks." you snap, swatting his hand away.
hyunjin opens his mouth to berate you, but seungmin quickly steps in, reaching for the umbrella. "i'll handle this guys, you go enjoy your dinner."
you fume at that. 'oh he'll handle it? who the fuck does this guy think he is?'
you roll your eyes, pushing past your friends and heading for the door. you stand under the roof, crossing your arms in front of your chest as a cold chill blows past you. hyunjin and felix soon exit as well, wrapped tightly in their coats, hands entwined.
hyunjin steps towards you, pulling you in for a hug despite your protests. "be nice," he whispers, before planting a kiss on your cheek. you make a move to wipe it away, but hesitate when you see hyunjin pout.
"have a nice date." you mumble, watching as the pair huddles close under the umbrella, making their way to felix's car.
you hear the door open, and you hold your breath.
"let me walk you home." seungmin offers, his tone stern. this only ticks you off, wanting nothing more than to defy him despite his offer being in your best interest. your apartment is a good walk away, and the papers in your tote bag risk the chance of getting wet.
"i mean you- you live near my building, right?" he pleads, clicking his umbrella open. he waits patiently for you to respond, standing awkwardly by the sidewalk as you fight with your pride.
you nod, and thats all seungmin needs. he's by your side in an instant, holding the umbrella nearer to your side to ensure that not even an inch of you gets wet from the rain. his left side is already completely soaked, cringing at the feel of his cold hoodie sticking to his skin, but he ignores it. you set a fast pace, and his heart hurts at the though that it's probably because you can't stand to spend more time with him than you need to.
he notices you wince from the weight of your bag, taking a deep breath as you readjust the strap from falling off your shoulder.
"let me carry it," he's being bold, already reaching for the damn thing before you can say anything.
"i dont need any more favors." you snap, the first words you've directly said to him in nearly three years. he's glad you've at least acknowledged his existence now, but your words are sharp.
he lets it go, humming to let you know that he heard you. your pace quickens just a bit, eager to get home, out of the rain, and away from seungmin. your tote swings from the movement, getting caught on a nearby bush and very nearly pulling you back.
you lose your balance and slip, falling flat on your butt on the wet pavement. you try to brake your fall, scratching your palms in the process.
"oh my god, are you okay?" seungmin rushes down, still holding the umbrella over your head. he offers his hand to help you up, but you swat it away.
"i'm fine, alright? god, stop hovering!" you yell, pushing down on your scratched palms to help yourself up. you wince at the pain, brushing off tiny pebbles and bits of gravel from your open wound.
"y/n, you're bleeding." seungmin gawks, hand reaching out to touch yours. you quickly yank it out of his reach, almost as if you were hiding your palm from him.
"yea, thanks for the info." you mumble, trying your best to wipe away the mud that's splattered all over your jeans. seungmin moves quickly while you're preoccupied, crouching down to grab at your tote bag. he ignores your whines of protest, slinging it over his shoulder.
you let out a groan when he refuses to hand it back to you. "fine, whatever. suffer." you grumble, crossing your arms before walking away. seungmin quickly catches up to you, shielding you from the rain.
the walk home is painfully quiet. you're hyperaware of every movement he makes, every time he inhales, the way he clears his throat, as if he's about to say something before he changes his mind. all these emotions swirl angirly inside of you, most of them you cant even begin to comprehend.
because for some reason, you miss him. and it hits you like a truck when the sleeve of his hoodie grazes your elbow, the soft cloth reaching for you. it takes everything in you not to break down and grab for him, to hold him close and strangle him, to wrap your arms around him and hug him so tight he loses breath and dies of suffocation.
he smells the same, like the seungmin you remember who used to walk you home after band practice. the seungmin who held your hand in secret as you walked through the haunted house that one halloween. the seungmin who'd sing to you, alone in his room with his guitar on his lap.
your seungmin.
how could this stranger beside you be your seungmin?
how is it possible that the very same person who knows your deepest darkest secrets, your most embarrassing moments, your dreams and fears- is someone who doesn't know you at all?
seungmin stands stiff beside you as you reach the lobby of your apartment, shaking the little droplets of rain off the umbrella. he opens the door for you, urging you to enter before him.
"i'll have my bag back now, thanks." you say in monotone, eyes not even meeting his.
"let me carry it up." a bold request.
"i'm fine now, you know? im not some damsel in distress in need of saving." you mumble, standing your ground.
seungmin ignores you, already walking towards the elevator. he leaves it on hold, waiting a few seconds before you enter as well, grumbling under your breath.
once you reach your floor, you lead the way to your room, with seungmin trailing slowly behind you. he's shivering a little from the cold, the wet of his jacket only making the draft on the floor feel like ice against his skin. you notice, the little devil on your shoulder pleased at his suffering.
but there's another side of you that softens when you notice the way his teeth chatter, a shudder going down his whole body. god, you're gonna regret even opening your mouth-
"you can come in to warm up a little." you mumble, reaching into your coat pocket to fetch your keys.
seungmin merely blinks at you, unsure if he heard you correctly, or if his imagination was so strong that he managed to picture you saying the thing he so desperately wanted to hear.
but then you walk in, and you leave your door open. for him.
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"oh, thanks." seungmin mutters awkwardly, reaching for the cup of tea you offer him. the warmth spreads from his fingertips to his palms, and he's genuinely grateful for the heat it provides. you only hum, grabbing your tote bag from the floor and setting it on the couch.
you pour yourself a cup, sitting directly opposite of the strange boy in your apartment. you blow away some of the steam that rises from the cup, eyes trained on the way the liquid ripples from the force of your breath.
seungmin opens his mouth to speak, but he cant seem to find the words to say what he wants to say. i'm sorry? no thats too lame. i miss you? fuck no, way too forward. how about-
"you're shivering." you point out, staring directly into seungmin's eyes.
his breath hitches. you're looking at him.
actually looking at him.
"oh, i- i didn't even notice." he lies. despite the fact that you turned your heater on, he's fucking freezing. his hoodie is heavy with rain and damp against his skin, sending shivers all the way up his arm and down his spine.
suddenly you stand, retreating into your room without a word. seungmin's confused, unsure if that's his cue that he's overstayed his welcome. but then you come back into the kitchen after a few seconds, holding a large blue hoodie in your arms.
his heart clenches when you unfurl it, revealing the old hoodie he'd given you a month before your graduation. he didnt even know you got it in the mail when he sent it. you werent even talking to him at that point. does that mean you'd gotten his letter too?
"well, i didnt wanna get rid of it, you know? would be a waste." you mumble. you toss it over to him, the cloth landing on his lap with a soft thud. he looks stupidly down at it, brain malfunctioning.
"you should change out of your sweater. you're wet. dripping all over my floor." you grumble, snatching seungmin's empty cup and setting it down on the counter behind him.
"you kept it?" seungmin whispers.
"like i said. didnt want it-"
"you kept it." seungmin turns to look at you.
his deep brown eyes are hopeful, crease in his brows giving away the myriad of emotions swirling deep in his stomach.
you stay silent, back turned towards him. you can feel the tears that pool behind your eyelids, threatening to fall as you hold yourself over the sink, turning your head completely away from seungmin. you hear the sound of fabric rustling, and your cheeks warm at the thought of him undressing in the middle of your kitchen.
the sound of wood scratching against your kitchen tiles is loud, the abruptness of seungmin standing up nearly sending the chair backwards.
"smells like you." he whispers. he cant trust his voice.
he takes a step towards you, your back still towards him.
"i think its time for you to go." you hiccup, a steady stream of tears flowing down your cheeks.
"look at me." seungmin begs, taking another step.
"you should go now, seungmin."
"look me in the eye when you tell me. then i will."
he's getting bold, standing right behind you, his chest pressing the back of your head. you whirl around, ready to yell at him, to scream at him, to slap him, to furl your hands into fists and beat against his chest.
but he's quicker, wrapping both his arms around your shoulders and pressing you close to him, tucking your head under his chin. he holds you like this for so long you figure its been hours. you stain the front of his chest with your tears, hands weakly wrapping around him, fingers curling into the fabric.
he still feels like seungmin.
your seungmin.
"you kept it. you got my letter too, didn't you sweetheart?" he whispers, as if afraid raising his voice would ruin the spell.
you sob violently against his chest, holding him tighter against you.
"i meant every single word," he squeezes you tightly, "i'm so sorry."
"you're an asshole, kim seungmin." you sob, shaking your head.
"i know, i know. i'm so sorry." he shushes you, smoothing down your hair, planting a soft kiss on the top of your head.
"do you know how much it hurts?" you sob, pulling away from him. "i see you almost everyday. you have the face of someone who knows every single thing about me, but you're a complete stranger to me." you sob into your hands, pouring your heart out to him.
"i know," he sniffles, wiping away the snot under your nose with his free hand.
"no, you dont. stop fucking saying that." you pull your face away from him, pushing his hand down. "you were my best friend and you- now its like i dont know you and-" you're hiccuping, heaving, out of breath as you break down.
"i'm sorry, sweetheart, okay? i'm so so sorry. i was so stupid,"
"well yea!" you yell, falling into him when he opens his arms up to you.
he chuckles dryly at that, holding you tightly against him, as if terrified you'd change your mind and kick him out of your home. and he cant bear to see it, the way you look up at him with tears in your eyes, bloodshot red and full of resentment. he wants to fix it so bad, misses the way you'd hold softness in your eyes reserved especially for him.
"i'll make it right," he promises, nuzzling his cheek against the top of your head. "i'll prove it to you, okay? i promise."
you sniffle, shaking your head. "i- i dont know,"
"hey, look at me." seungmin pulls you away from him, bending slightly so you're eye to eye. "i promise, i'll do everything i can to gain back your trust. i just miss you so much, y/n. i- i really fucked up and to this day it remains my greatest regret."
you stay quiet, eyes flickering between either of his. "even more than when you shaved your head that one summer?" you joke weakly.
seungmin can feel his heart pounding at the sight of your small smile. he thinks he sees your eyes twinkle. "yes, sweetheart. even more than that. i just... please. give me another chance. give me a chance to make it right with you, y/n."
you take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. seungmin's steadily crying, wiping the tears away with the back of his hand as he looks at you, expectantly. you stay quiet for so long seungmin can hear the blood rushing all the way to his head, going dizzy with anticipation and fear.
"you'll have to buy me lots of gummies, you know?" you mumble, looking up at him.
fuck. he'd buy you all the gummies in the world if it meant you'd keep looking at him with those eyes.
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the words on your screen have started to blur altogether, vision hazy as you mindlessly scroll through the hundreds of pages of readings and notes youve been reviewing for the past...... god, was there even a time you weren't studying? even the music playing through your headphones have lost its appeal, sounding more and more like radio static.
you jolt out of your trance at the sound of books slamming against the surface of your table, which shakes under the weight. you quickly pull your headphones off and look up at the intruder, who smiles sheepishly at you.
"sorry, did i wake you?" seungmin asks, pulling up a chair beside you.
"no, you saved me." you groan, stretching your whole body until your limbs start to vibrate.
seungmin only laughs, sinking deep into his chair. he takes his cap off and runs his fingers through his hair. he scoots a little closer to you, then bends the other way to retrieve a little brown paper bag.
"i brought you breakfast." he says, rolling his eyes at the way you pout at him.
"seungmin, you didnt!" you gasp, receiving the tall cup of iced coffee with eager hands.
"i did this for myself, actually." he claims, pulling out some warm bread to share with you. "dont want you grumpy all morning. what time did you come in? you look like shit. no offense."
you shrug, taking a long sip of the cold drink.
"wait, weren't you wearing that last night when i left? y/n.. dont- oh my god, dont tell me you spent the whole night here?"
you stare blankly back at him. "our final exam is in three days."
"do you plan on staying awake until then?" seungmin bites sarcastically, and you kick his chair.
"i have to atleast get a 97 on his exam or else i wont finish his class with high honors." you whine, running your fingers through your hair in frustration.
you're so much like him, seungmin thinks. he, too, is familiar with sacrificing his happiness for a perfect grade. except now he has to work just as hard as you just to pass. the thought leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.
"you have to get some sleep or you wont finish his class at all." he threatens, staring down at you.
you only frown, but you dont need that much convincing, as you're already closing your laptop shut, scooting your chair just that much closer to seungmin's so your arm grazes his.
"wake me up in thirty minutes." you grumble, linking your arm with his and resting your head on his shoulder. he raises it a little to grant you comfort, unbothered by the fact that his arm will inevitably start to tense and ache.
"sweet dreams," he hums, discreetly kissing the top of your head as he pretends to look at the empty chair next to you.
ten minutes pass, and you're already snoring. your fair falls in a mess in front of your face, and seungmin has to hold back from sweeping your hair away in fear that he'd accidentally wake you up. he cant help but feel his chest swell at the feeling of you leaning on him, he feels like a highschooler high with giddiness, trying hard not to vibrate in his seat.
screw the readings, he can barely keep you out of his head. this past month has been an absolute dream to him, spending every waking moment by your side. treating you to almost every single meal, keeping you company as you run your errands, crashing at yours to study and just goof around.
this is how he remembers you- full of life, playful, just a little mischievous. so positively alluring that seungmin feels himself falling in love with you. it hit him like a brick that night you passed out with papers strewn across your bed, your limbs tangling with his. he didnt sleep a wink that night, too busy studying your face. you looked so peaceful, he remembers, burying your face in the crook of his neck and holding him tightly in your sleep.
he looks down at you now, cant stop the smile from spreading across his face. he'll let you sleep for a little longer, he decides. he doesnt care if you get upset with him (you will), you deserve the rest. seungmin's about to finally clear his head of you and actually get some studying done when he locks eyes with a tall blonde from across the room.
god, of all the people.
"oh, hey! seungmin, right? felix's friend?" soobin says in a low voice as he approaches the table.
"yea, soobin right?" stupid fucking name.
"yea. hey- is that y/n?" he nods towards your sleeping figure.
ew. stop looking at her. "oh, yea. she passed out."
"damn, she's really studious, huh? ran into her late last night when she was here all alone." soobin sighs, frowning at you.
seungmin wants to puke at the thought of you spending time alone with soobin. he wants to ask him so many questions like- how long did you talk to her for? what did you guys talk about? how much can i pay you to leave her alone?
"yea, shes hardworking. i admire her for that." seungmin smiles fondly.
"oh... wait- are.. are you guys, like, a thing? or something?" soobin takes a step back and seungmin's breath hitches in his throat.
"cuz if you guys are, i can totally back off, you know?"
seungmin stays silent, weighing his options. he could lie and say you guys were dating, but if you found out, you'd probably hate him and ignore him for the rest of his life and he'd rather die than let that happen. on the other hand, if he tells the truth, soobin would obviously try to pursure you. and he knows you have a little crush on him too.
seungmin bites his lower lip, then shakes his head. "nah, we're just friends." seungmin can feel some bile rise in his throat. not for long, he thinks cockily.
"oh, cool cool. uhm, if you could do me a favor, man? just... i dunno ask her to go to the cafe again this week? maybe i'll work up the courage to ask her out or something." soobin chuckles, cheeks turning a deep red.
seungmin can only nod. finally soobin offers him a small smile and leaves. there's a heavy feeling in seungmin's stomach, almost as if he'd been punched in the gut. he cant even begin to imagine you dating someone else, in fear that he'd just break down right then and there.
its kinda pathetic, really. you're not even his yet and he's already thinking of all the ways he can get soobin to leave you alone. he wants to print a large sign that says "do not approach, angry guard dog will bite" over your head, just to keep everyone else away from you.
god, since when was he this possessive?
he spends the next forty minutes thinking of ways to get you to be his. and when you finally stir awake, the first thing that seungmin says is-
"we should stop going to felix's cafe."
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obviously, you dont listen.
you go to felix's cafe anyways, except you're always alone. seungmin doesn't need to know where you go every thursday afternoon while he's in class, anyways. he never told you why he wanted you to stop coming here, but you have a hunch. a tall, blonde, stupidly handsome hunch.
"y/n!" soobin greets you warmly, leaning over the counter to get a better look at your face.
"hey, soob." your cheeks warm.
you know that nothing is going on between you and seungmin, but you can't help but feel guilty doing exactly the opposite of what he asked of you. but something's shifted the past few days you've been spending with seungmin, almost as if you're seeing each other in this new light. you push this thought to the back of your head like you always do, telling soobin your order and waiting for felix at your booth.
by the time soobin brings the food to you, your phone rings.
fuck. its seungmin.
"hello?"
"hey, my classes ended a little early today. where are you?"
"oh, uhm im-"
oh my god lie faster.
"yea?" you can hear him huffing, obviously walking around campus, probably looking for you.
"at the library." you spit, looking outside the window, frozen with paranoia. lying to him feels so so wrong.
"its wednesday, y/n. library's closed."
oh my fucking god, lie better.
"i went to meet felix." you finally admit, shrinking into your seat.
you hear seungmin sigh. "is he out already?"
"no," you mumble.
"so you're alone?"
you hum.
"im on my way."
he hangs up, and you let out a sigh.
finally, felix barges out from the kitchens and quickly clocks out, throwing his apron over his head and hanging it on the hook by the door. he smiles when he sees you, nearly leaping over the counter to get to you.
"hello, my dear y/n." felix hums, kissing you quickly on the cheek and settling on the booth opposite from you.
"hello, my dear lixie." you hum, pushing a plate of waffles in front of him. "for you, your usual."
felix groans with hunger, fixing his plate with a heavy load of syrup and a huge dollop of butter. "so, how are things? any important new updates this week?"
you shrug, taking a sip of your iced coffee. "nothing new, really..... except, i guess...."
felix hums, urging you to continue.
you let out a deep breath, shaking your head. "i think... i think something's going on between seungmin and i."
you bite the inside of your cheek at felix's reaction, mouth agape as he stares blankly at you. it takes him a moment to process before he finally swallows the food in his mouth and he lets out an evil giggle. "oh, this is... oh, hyunjin owes me so much money!"
"you prick!" you gasp, swatting at felix's arm. "you guys bet on us?"
"well, i mean, come on! it was sooo obvious, i mean, it was only a matter of time, you know?" felix shrugs, cutting up another piece of his waffle.
"no, i do not know!" you squeal, piercing the piece with your fork and stuffing it into your mouth, ignoring your friend's whines of protest. "you guys thought seungmin and i would end up together?"
"well yea, everyone with eyes thought so! come on, y/n. he's looked at you like a lovesick puppy since highschool." felix rolls his eyes. "you guys were always together, and he knew you better than all of us combined. not to mention how lifeless you both were the two years you werent talking. i mean seriously, it was like hanging out with a couple of zombies."
your cheeks warm. "but- im still not even sure of how he feels about me."
"wow. love does make you oblivious as fuck, or whatever they say." felix shakes his head, chugging down his vanilla milkshake before he suddenly remembers something.
"does that mean you're gonna let him help you grade the papers for extra credit?"
you freeze. "what?"
"yea, seungmin said he needs to convince you or else he'd fail, or something. you guys talked about it already, or?"
your breath falters, and your brows furrow. "seungmin's failing a class?"
felix swallows. he cant shake off the feeling that he said something he shouldnt have. but he could never keep a secret from you.
"well- yes. his prof said he needed to convince you to help him get extra credit."
"wait, when was this?" you ask, voice stern.
oh, felix is soooo in deep shit. "uhm, like the day you guys started talking again."
your heart drops to your ass. surely, thats not the whole reason why he was so desperate to talk to you again, right? but you cant shake away the feeling, remembering back to highschool when he'd done almost the exact same thing.
but he promised. he promised it'd be different this time, right?
"seungmin told you that he needed to convince me to let him grade some papers?" you clarify.
"yea."
"and what did you say?"
"i uhm- i told him to like, turn on his charm or something along those lines."
you scoff in disbelief.
felix is going to hell. "but, that was my advice before i knew it was you! i just... i know seungmin needed some help and he'd do anything to get a good grade so i figured he was extra desperate because he was borderline failing and i was just so shocked and-"
"felix, just stop talking." you mumble, leaning back against the booth.
felix only nods, wringing his hands in nervousness. he opens his mouth to speak, but you shoot him a glare. he falls silent again, nervously gnawing on his bottom lip.
your mind's racing, going 100 miles an hour as you go through every moment youve had with seungmin this past month. obviously, this favor is not the only reason he tried hard to convince you to talk to him again, right?
but theres a small voice inside of you, the one who remembers the harsh pain seungmin caused that's screaming, telling you to cut him off, shut him out before he can hurt you all over again.
by the time seungmin pulls open the glass door, you've made up your mind.
"he-"
"this is the last time i let you break my heart, kim seungmin." you say firmly, brushing past him.
seungmin can only stand, frozen. his heart drops to his stomach, head going fuzzy as his gaze lands on felix. he opens his mouth to say something, but he cant find the words.
"what did you say?" seungmin asks.
"im sorry, i didnt know, i thought-"
seungmin's rushing out, throwing the door wide open as he runs out into the street. he can feel his heart pumping as he pushes through crowds of people, racing towards you. he can hear his blood rushing, catching sight of your yellow sundress as you're pushing open your apartment building. seungmin's never been a runner, hell, he nearly failed PE in highschool when he was forced to run laps a whole semester. but right now? he feels like the fucking flash.
he yells for you, ignoring the stitch in his side as he manages to somewhat catch up to you. by the time he throws open the heavy metal door to your apartment complex, the elevator doors are closing, your eyes locking with his.
"fuck." seungmin heaves, bending down to rest his hands on his knees. he needs to reach you before you lock him out of your room. he knows how stubborn you can be, you could probably ignore his pleas and incessant knocking for days if you had to.
seungmin gags, shaking his limbs before he bolts up the stairs, taking two steps at a time, pushing his legs to work faster. the backpack on his shoulders is heavy but he could care less. he cant risk losing you again.
sweat flows freely from his forehead by the time he reaches your floor, and by some miracle, he catches you walking down the hall.
"y/n!" he heaves, sliding his bag off his shoulders and leaving it right there in the hall. "please-"
"go away, seungmin." your voice cracks, digging for your keys in your bag.
he shakes his head, jogging up to you before you can close the door in his face. he sticks his shoe in the closing gap, groaning when it gets stuck between your door and the frame.
"what the fuck?" you yell, backing up as seungmin forces his way into your apartment, closing the door behind him.
"no you- you have to hear me out." he's panting, vision going blurry. jesus christ, he was out of shape.
"you want to talk about it?" you challenge, shrugging your coat off and throwing it on the floor.
"yes." he heaves, leaning against the wall.
"okay, lets talk about it. is it true that you wanted to convince me to help you get extra credit?" your hands are crossed in front of you. seungmin's admittedly a little scared.
"yes, but-"
"but what? i wasnt supposed to find out?"
"no! that was before-"
"before what?" you take a step closer, crowding him in.
"before i realized i was in love with you!" seungmin yells, hiding his face in his hands.
you're silent, expression stoic. "you're sick." you whisper, unsure of yourself. your heart is racing, and you take a step back. "dont... dont say that."
"but its the truth!" seungmin's desperate know, tears welling in his eyes. it wasnt supposed to happen like this. he was supposed to take you out, confess his feelings for you properly, but now its all ruined and rushed and- oh, when he gets his hands on lee felix-
"the truth?" you scoff, shaking your head at him. "how am i supposed to believe you? with everything that... that's happened?"
"you're going to have to trust me." seungmin steps forward, hesitant. he can see the doubt in your eyes and it makes him sick. he'd run up 10 flights of stairs if it meant you'd never look at him like that again.
"trust me when i say that i was a fucking fool in highschool for hurting you, and i spend every day thinking about how if i could, i would go back in time to change everything." he takes another step forward, backing you against the door to your bedroom.
"that i wasted two and a half years of my life by not spending them with you, knowing that you were so near me, that i could easily walk up to you but i was too embarrassed, too scared you'd shut me out." seungmin's baring his soul out, but its too late to stop.
"that i thought about you every single day, thought about what could have been if i wasnt so stupid. that ive spent the last few months doing everything i can to prove to you that i would never ever hurt you like that ever again. but with you im just so stupid, i feel like im always doing the wrong things because youre all up in my head taking up all the space and i fucking love that i cant think about anything but you."
you can only stare up at him. you can see the way his gaze flickers away from you, too nervous to maintain eye contact. he reaches out to you, fingers hesitantly brushing against the back of your hand. testing. you pull away from his touch to wipe away the tear that's managed to slip away, clearing your throat. he tilts his head, hands settling firmly on your waist.
"i love you, y/n. please, you have to believe me."
he's waiting for you to say something, anything. he's never poured his heart out like that before, the silence eating away at him as he slowly spirals, overthinking every word he's said.
but then you relax in his hold, pressing your chest subtly against his. and he knows there's hope.
"are you really failing a class?" you whisper, and seungmin can only laugh.
"that's your concern?" he leans down, dragging the tip of his nose against your cheek. he inhales deeply, nuzzling against you.
"well, yes." you gently push him away by the shoulder, looking up at him. "i cant have my boyfriend failing any of his classes."
seungmin smiles, absolutely melting when you wrap your arms around his neck. "oh yea? does that mean you'll let me in on the extra credit?"
"you are on thin, thin ice, seungmin." you warn, reaching up to finally press your lips against his. seungmin absolutely melts, letting out a low groan at your taste. one hand on your waist, seungmin leans into you, reaching behind you to open your bedroom door. you gasp when you lose balance, recovering quickly when seungmin walks you backwards, never once pulling away from you until the back of your knees hit your bed.
you let out a squeal when you fall back, seungmin expertly finding his way in between your legs. "tell me you want me," seungmin commands in between kisses, hands roaming up and down your sides.
"i do. i want you." you breathe, pushing off seungmin's jacket.
"yea?" seungmin hums, pulling back to bunch up your dress until it sits just below your ribcage. he leans back, simply staring down at you with stars in his eyes.
"stop staring at me." you mumble shyly, turning your head to the side.
"dont want to," seungmin hums, quickly throwing his shirt off into a random corner of your room. "ill look at my girl as long as i like." he leans down, capturing your lips with his.
"your girl, hmm?" you hum, smiling as he kisses his way up your stomach, fingers gripping onto the hem of your dress. your breath hitches when his fingers brush against your under boob. he smiles against your skin, looking up at you.
"aren't- arent you going to take my dress off?" you whisper into the air, and seungmin stops his teasing kisses against your hip.
"well, i was going to but then.." he kisses over the fabric, planting a wet kiss in between your breasts before latching onto your neck for a playful bite. "then i thought about how i want to fuck you in it and then take you out to dinner after."
your cheeks grow red, lightly slapping his arm at his vulgarity. "doesnt that sound better, baby?" seungmin hums, playing with the hem of your underwear.
your breath goes shaky as seungmin continues to toy with you, pads of his fingers lightly pressing against your clit from over your underwear, providing the littlest bit of friction, but enough to drive you crazy.
"seungmin, please-"
"please, what?" he teases, hips pressing into your thigh. you can feel him through his sweats, hard and aching against you. he begins to grind against you, gentle enough to tease you and get him off at the same time.
"need you to touch me." you huff, frustrated.
"i am, baby." seungmin chuckles, pads of his fingers pressing against you firmly, trailing down until he teases your entrance, soiling the fabric of your underwear with how wet you are.
"you know what i mean," you whine.
seungmin only hums, lowering his sweats just enough to free his cock. he pulls your underwear to the side, exposing your cunt to the cold air of the room, making you shiver.
"you're so wet, baby. bet i could slide right in, huh?" seungmin teases you with his tip, tapping it firmly against your clit and trailing down to coat himself in you.
"god, just put it in, minnie." you sigh, grabbing at his shoulders.
"minnie?" seungmin smirks, nosing against your jaw. "i like that."
he finally presses in, slowly making sure you feel every inch of him. you wince a bit at the pain, and seungmin notices with a coo. he pulls your hands away from his shoulders to hold against your bed, fingers intertwining with yours.
"i'm sorry, does it hurt?" he coos, slowly pulling out to thrust back in.
"a little, its okay. kiss me."
seungmin obeys, leaning down to kiss you sweetly as he starts at an even pace. he's slow with it, stroking so deep you can feel him in your throat. it feels intimate this way, with his hands in yours, his chest pressed firmly against you. he pants into your mouth, kissing you when you start to moan too loudly.
"tell me you love me." seungmin sighs, resting his forehead against yours.
you nod, "i love you. love you minnie."
seungmin lets out a groan at that, pulling one hand away to sneak in between your bodies, tips of his fingers finding your clit. he starts to move them in circles, your high fast approaching.
"i'm gonna cum," you whine, squeezing his hand.
"cum with me, baby. please," he begs, holding you so tight against him you feel the air knocked out of you with every thrust. you cum with a whine of his name, fingers digging into the back of his hand. his hips stutter before he presses as deep as he can into you, groaning loudly as he mouths at your neck.
you're both sweaty and sticky, but seungmin pays no mind as he collapses completely on top of you, wrapping his limbs around you. he looks up at you when his breathing starts to even, a cheeky grin on his face.
"what," you laugh, pushing him away by the shoulder when he leans in to kiss you.
he loves the sound of your happiness, basking in it as he shifts closer to pull you into his side. you happily comply, ignoring the mess in between your legs in favor of cuddling up to your lover.
"i really do love you." seungmin reassures, and you roll your eyes.
"i love you too. really." you hum, kissing his shoulder. "now clean me up, and dont even think about falling asleep."
seungmin groans, rolling off your bed to reach for a towel to wet. "but we have plenty of time before dinner. we can nap!"
"no, i will nap." seungmin frowns, walking into your bathroom and turning the faucet on.
"and what do you expect me to do?" seungmin says once he returns to the room, eyebrows raised.
"you, will check all the papers left in my bag." seungmin only laughs, leaning down to wipe in between your thighs, careful to get every drop.
"then can we get dinner?" he asks, pout on his lips.
"yes. your treat."
"well, duh."
as you close your eyes and start to drift off to sleep, seungmin only watches, hunched over on your bedroom floor, hundreds of papers scattered in front of him. he prays he'll be able to get it together and pry his eyes away from you to actually get some work done.
he seriously doubts it.
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lady-djarin · 5 months ago
Text
independent contractor
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joel miller x f!reader (one shot)
fully inspired by this post
warnings/tags: no outbreak au, no sarah mentioned, but we can always pretend she’s at collage or something, infidelity by reader(reader’s hubby is an asshole), contractor!joel, age gap (late 20s/mid 50s) , masterbation (m), smelling of panties(?), sexting, oral (receiving), p in v (unprotected- don’t do that!!) general smut so children leave!! mdni 18+
word count: 6.1k
a/n: i understand not everyone is going to dig the infidelity thing so i get that, if you are not into that please just scroll on, thank you :)
* 。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆ 。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆
It was a beautiful dress but damn if it wasn’t complicated, the back had all these complicated buttons and clasps to hold it closed. You had managed to get yourself into the thin fabric but just as you needed your husband to close the dress, he had conveniently disappeared. He had been dressed for the party for a while and had been running around the house trying to organize the vendors. It was all for some charity thing he was throwing through his company. He was the CEO of some big company that even after 5 years of marriage you still didn’t understand. Something to do with finance? Maybe.
“Hon? Are you up here?” You huffed as you realized he was not in ear shot. Your husband had a habit of doing this, leaving right when you needed him in favor of something he needed.
You can now admit to yourself that the marriage you were in was a little rushed. Ok, maybe more than rushed. You were engaged within three months of meeting and married in less than a year. The first year of marriage was amazing, he would shower you with gifts and trips and practically worshiped the ground you walk on. It now felt like he only did this to rope you in. He began to take multiple long ‘work trips’ every month and you soon found evidence of an affair (or multiple). Once, there was long hair all over his clothes that was definitely not his or yours along with red lipstick smudged on a white shirt. Was he not even trying to hide it or did he just not care?
You had always told yourself that ‘you’d never be with a cheater’ and you wouldn’t fall prey to men who used women. Well, after a quick marriage, that you begged your parents to go along with, you felt like you had nowhere else to go. Your parents would not be happy and would surely find a way to blame you, and all your friends were also his. So, you kept your head high as your husband did as he pleased. You were now a forgotten trophy on the shelf he felt didn’t need polishing anymore. So you did as you pleased, with his money. One of the things you liked spending his money on was renovations to the house that you were usually alone in.
Currently, you were renovating the other side of the house to become a library/craft area for yourself. The contractor was actually at the house doing a walk through before the party got started. He happened to hear you calling for your husband from down the hall and came to your rescue.
“Sorry to disturb you ma’am, I think he went downstairs,” he was looking down when he first walked in, probably to make sure you were decent. What a gentleman.
“Of course he did, uhg,” you fumbled with the clasps behind your back and failed to make a difference.
“I can go get ‘em for ya?”
“No that’s ok Joel, thank you,” Joel Miller, one half of Miller Construction. He had been so great from the beginning, knowing exactly what you wanted for the library, seeing your vision immediately. He was very much the southern Texan gentleman, ‘yes ma’am, no ma’am’, no matter how many times you told him you hated it. “and please, Joel. I’m not a ma’am.” Your smile drew his eyes up.
”My mama would kill me if she heard me call ya’ anythin’ but, ma’am,” he stepped into the room, already coming to help even with your refusal. “I’m more delicate than ya think, im sure i can handle some buttons,” he came up behind you in the mirror and his soft touch on your shoulder blade made you inhale. You held the dress against your chest making sure he had room to fasten the small clasps. You caught his gaze in the mirror that was fixated on the dip in the front of the dress.
He matched your smile.
His surprisingly nimble fingers secure every last fastening and it feels like you can hear your own heart beating out of your chest. It had been a long time since you were looked at the way Joel was looking at you. He was a handsome man, big and rugged but soft in his features. He had these deep brown eyes that you could get lost in and lips that would make a nun blush. He was affecting you in ways your husband hadn’t done in years, he was turning you on. A complete stranger was turning you on and you didn’t really feel guilty.
Did that make you a terrible person?
You know what, fuck it. Your husband cheated and left you alone in life, you were entitled to some flirting every now and then.
“There ya are darlin’,” dear lord, his voice. The deep southern drawl made your panties wet.
“Thank you… Joel.”
”Enjoy the party,” watching him walk away was the hardest thing all night, aside from having to laugh at all your husband’s bad jokes all night. All night your mind was occupied by the sexy contractor.
~
It had been about a week since the party and the library reno was well underway. Joel and his team, including the other half of Miller Construction, his brother Tommy, were working tirelessly. In that last week your husband had been in and out of the house at weird times. On this particular day he left early in the morning without saying so much as a word to you. You used the day to mope around on your phone or read but what kept stealing your attention was the attractive contractor.
His team wasn’t around so the house was truly empty, the quiet was starting to drive you mad. As you wandered up the winding staircase, you found a sweatshirt draped over the railing. That damn husband, he leaves shit everywhere. Without thinking much of it, you threw the hoodie on as you found the library under construction.
The sweatshirt smells like sawdust and something distinctly man. That's different from what your husband normally smells like. The thought of him buying new cologne for some mistress almost made your blood boil, if you truly loved him anymore it would.
The library was really starting to come together, the plans on the table laid out the new shelves and built in table being put in and you dreamed of the days you would spend in there. The rest of your day was spent inside, no husband in sight so you did what you wanted, camped out on the couch with snacks galore and bad tv. Your husband eventually came home, after midnight, to find you passed out on the couch. You were roused by him, he woke you to send you off to bed. He used to carry you.
“Hey, get to bed, it's late… New hoodie?” Your eyebrows narrowed and you looked at him confused.
“What? It’s yours?”
”No it's not, I don't work at ‘Miller Construction’…” his tone felt like sandpaper against your skin. Also, have you been wearing Joel’s sweatshirt this whole time?
~
You wore it almost every day. Refusing to even wash it, it would get rid of the smell. The smell of him. It was like a drug, anytime your husband left you alone in that big house you wrapped yourself in Joel.
The rumble of the engine told you someone was at the house, but the deep southern drawl was what told you it was Joel. You felt giddy, like a girl with her first crush. You were already wearing the sweatshirt because you were expecting him today. He was leading his team of guys up to the library, telling them what to get started on. You made your way up there, under the guise of greeting Joel and asking if they need anything. In reality you wanted to see his reaction to you wearing his clothes.
“Morning Joel, you guys need anything?”
His eyes nearly popped out of his head. He noticed right away, scanning the hoodie and his gaze set your skin on fire. You felt your cheeks heat up as he stepped closer, the air was thick with tension and you immediately felt the mood change. His lips curved up in the corner slightly as he lowered his voice.
He looked handsome as always, the salt and pepper in his beard and hair was somehow very attractive to you. He was older for sure but you’d be lying if you said that wasn’t part of the attraction.
“Nice sweatshirt you got there…,” you could practically feel his heart beating just inches from you. “Miller.”
You had to strangle down a breath hearing his voice drop an octave like that, teasing you. This was real… Joel Miller, your contractor, was flirting with you. And you liked it, a lot. Not only the blatantly wrong flirting but the fact that your husband could come home at any time. It was making your skin flush with arousal and it felt like he could sense it somehow.
“I can wash it and get it back to you,” you wanted to gauge how into this he was. He did not disappoint.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
Jesus christ.
“Keep it sugar, looks better on ya anyway,” he left you there, finally with enough room to breathe without inhaling his intoxicating cologne. Holy shit, holy shit!
Your mind never strayed far from the older man, you seemed to fixate on the memory of him crowding you in your own home. The rest of the day went smoothly, you went about your business as the Miller Construction crew worked on your new library. You could hear the men working upstairs and every time you heard that one specific rumbling southern drawl your heart stopped for just a beat.
You were screwed.
~
Joel’s day could not have been longer, though he was the only one that noticed. The rest of the crew worked through the day, trying to get their tasks done sooner rather than later to be able to go home on time. Meanwhile, he was thinking about the pretty wife of the man who is paying him. He knew it was wrong but damn if it didn’t feel good. He saw the way your husband acted around you the last few weeks, he was engaged in every conversation except ones with you. Joel could even tell that the man was cheating, he clearly wasn’t trying to hide it. That’s really the only reason he was letting himself indulge with you, that and you seemed to be on the same page as him.
He knew he was in trouble, he had already memorized your features, your lips haunting him most of all. Every time you spoke he was entranced, unable to look away from your mouth. This was so wrong, he was working for you and your husband. He couldn’t help it, you were perfect, everything he could ever want. He dreamed about feeling you under him and that thought kept him half hard in his jeans all day.
By the time he was set to leave he felt like if he didn’t get himself taken care of he was going to explode. All he could think about was you in that damn hoodie, and how he would bend you over with it on. He knew it would smell like you now, it would smell like both of you. As he hopped into his truck he was so distracted that he didn’t see you coming down the driveway towards his car.
“Hey Joel…” Fuck. “I just wanted to get this back to you before I forget.” The gray fabric already smelled like you from where you held it by his car window. Why were you giving it back? He told you to keep it.
”Oh thanks darlin’,” it wasn’t lost on him how your eyes sparkled at this nickname. You were in the most delicious little shorts, showing just enough of the tops of your thighs as you walked back into the house. Fuck, he felt like such a dirty old man. You were so much younger and bright and kind. He felt like he could never deserve you.
He threw the hoodie on the passenger seat as he felt another surge of guilt and arousal settle into this stomach. Just as he was about to pull onto the street, he noticed something much darker than the hoodie sticking out of the pocket. He pulled it to reveal a pair of lacy black panties.
His heart nearly stopped. He would have never expected this, a sweet girl like you leaving her panties in her contractors sweatshirt. His jeans became even tighter than before as he pulled the panties up to his face.
He really was a dirty old man.
They had clearly been worn and it made his head spin, they smelled like heaven and you, he worried he might cum at the smell alone. He needed to get home.
As he raced home with your underwear gripped in his hand, he battled his thoughts. He knew it was wrong to mess around with a married woman but he felt different with you already. You were like the light at the end of his very lonely tunnel, no one ever looked at him the way you did. He practically tore his front door off the hinges as he rushed up to his bedroom. He felt like a teenager with an uncontrollable boner trying to find release.
The black lace was tight in his grip as he shucked his jeans off, the constricting fabric making his blood boil. He pulled himself free and the first touch to his hard length caused a gravely moan to slip from his lips. Tension and heat gathered in his stomach as he stroked himself. His fingers were rough as they circled his weeping tip but he needed to feel relief. He couldn’t even get himself into the shower, he just dropped onto the edge of his bed and never stopped moving his hand.
Those dark panties were teasing him, you were teasing him. You had to be, maybe you were making fun of his obvious crush. No, there was no way you would have grinned like you did if you didn’t feel the same way. It was an offering, a way for you to make a move without being apparent.
Holy shit. You wanted him.
That made his lower muscles spasm suddenly and his orgasm started to barrel down his spine. He pictured you in your small shorts earlier that day and he lost it. A deep groan escaped his throat as he spilled all over his knuckles. He pumped until he was oversensitive, his whole body reacting until he fell back into the bed.
All night his brain juggled wanting nothing but you and telling himself it was wrong. And it was wrong, at least on paper, of course he shouldn’t be messing with a client's wife. Even if she wanted him back.
~
Last time you saw Joel outside his car was almost a week ago. It was driving you crazy. You worried that he took it the wrong way or didn’t even see them. You couldn’t decide if you should be mortified, nervous, turned on or all the above. Then your phone went off.
Usually the texts between you and Joel were regarding what materials or paint you wanted. Now it was something totally different.
5:04PM >Joel: Sorry I have not been to check on the progress of the library personally. There was an emergency at another job.
>Joel: Also, thank you for my gift.
Only someone like Joel would thank you for sneaking him a pair of your panties.
5:09PM <You: im glad you liked them
<You: i was a little worried…
Your heart was thundering in your chest. Your husband was right across the couch, engrossed in his baseball game more than you, per usual. Was it wrong to like this so much, the fact that he had no idea you were texting another man right now, in front of him.
5:12PM >Joel: Why would you be worried? It's the best gift anyone’s ever given me.
>Joel: Any man should be so lucky.
Your pulse kicked up again somehow. He was making it all sound so meaningful. Maybe it was to him. Maybe he never took it the wrong way. Maybe he took it exactly the right way.
5:14PM <You: did you use them?
There was a pause for a few minutes.
5:20PM >Joel: Jesus…
>Joel: I’m at work, darlin.
5:22PM <You: so?
5:25PM >Joel: You got a mouth on you, huh?
5:26PM <You: and i know how to use it
5:28PM >Joel: We might just have to have you prove yourself then.
5:30PM <You: just tell me when
5:31PM >Joel: You are dangerous, angel.
>Joel: I have them in my pocket right now.
>Joel: I couldn’t help myself.
Jesus, this man was going to be the death of you. He was carrying your panties around in his pocket, while he was at work. Your thighs instantly squeezed together and it was at that moment you decided.
Fuck it, he made you feel good and your husband clearly didn’t care about your needs. You needed a divorce, and not just because of Joel. It was about you finally doing what’s good for you.
Suddenly an idea came to you, admititly a very bad idea but again, fuck it.
5:36PM <You: hey, do you have any plans tonight?
5:37PM >Joel: You know darlin, I don’t.
Thank god.
5:38PM <You: what’s your address?
5:38PM >Joel: 7 Oak Village Rd. I get home at 7.
5:38PM <You: see you then
You needed a plan. Your husband wouldn’t really care if you made last minute plans, you just needed a reason. Since he barely takes the time to pay attention to you, he definitely doesn’t know your friends very well.
“Hey, I know this is super random, but my friend Ashley”(totally a fake friend) “just got dumped, Isn’t that awful? She wants me to come over so she’s not alone. Would you care if I spent the night with her?”
It wasn’t really an odd thing, you spent the night with friends before. You should feel bad for lying so easily like this but the thrill of it all was keeping you going. You knew he wouldn’t object but he barely even looked at you. A quick glance back before he focused on the tv again as he waved you off.
”Yea, I don’t care… Johnny’s coming over anyway. Have fun.”
You shook your head and rolled your eyes, you knew you should be upset but you were too used to it at this point. You went upstairs to pack a bag and get ready. It had been a long time since a booty call and you forgot how giddy it made you feel. Knowing you were going to a man's house who actually wanted you there and actually wanted you.
Once you showered and finished packing, you went down to head out the garage. Apparently while you were upstairs Johnny and many more came over and had taken over the couch as they all debated over some play in the game. You tried to get your husband's attention, calling his name and waving at him. Anger boiled over in your gut. Just another reason not to feel guilty about tonight.
You loaded up into the car and pulled out of the massive driveway without a regret in your heart. This was the beginning of a new chapter and it felt right in so many ways. Your skin was buzzing with arousal, you had been thinking of Joel’s thick hands that would soon be on you, throughout your whole shower.
Before you left the neighborhood you sent Joel a quick text.
7:13PM <You: on my way
7:14PM >Joel: Can’t wait.
You felt the heat creep up into your cheeks and down your neck. Your nerves did start to wear on you though, all the usual stuff; Will he like me? Do I look nice? Did I miss a spot shaving my legs? You decided to wear a thin silk slip dress/nightgown under a baggy zip up hoodie. You figured it was a good way to look ‘sloppy’ enough that your husband wouldn’t care, if he even looked your way. You made the short drive over to Joel’s neighborhood and your nerves seemed to melt away as you got closer. It was odd, normally this kind of thing would send your pulse skyrocketing but the thought of seeing Joel made you calm, almost serene. He definitely made your head swim with giddy arousal though.
You found the beautiful house marked ‘No. 7’ and knocked on the perfectly painted door. Of course his house was gorgeous, he was a contractor. Only moments went by until the door was pulled open by that very sexy looking contractor. His brown curls were slightly messy on his head and he wore some kind of faded shirt and loose sweatpants that hung way too low. You couldn’t look away.
“Hi darlin’,” he rubbed his neck and his cheeks went red. He was nervous.
“Hi,” you couldn’t help the smile spreading on your face.
“Come in, here let me.” He gently took your bag from your shoulder and guided you to the couch where he had a bottle of wine and two glasses on the coffee table. The inside of his home was just as beautiful as the outside; the couch was large and comfortable, there was quiet music playing in the corner from an old school record player and books and plants littering the shelves. He came back and poured you both a glass and clinked the two together before you each took a long drink. He finally sat down and you turned so your feet were up against his leg, quickly feeling comfortable with him.
“I wasn’t sure if you would be ok… with me coming over.”
“Why?” God his southern accent was like honey.
“I don’t know, maybe it was…I was too forward.” You were sure why you felt the need to bring this up, maybe clear the air somehow. “I’m divorcing him, I can't do it anymore.” Saying it out loud made your heart lurch.
“I get it sweetheart, it ain’t fair that he treats ya’ that way.” You were leaning into each other at this point, unable to stop the magnetic pull between you. His arm was draped over the back of the couch, his hand near your shoulder. He started to entwine his finger in your hair, his big brown eyes danced over your face and it made you almost want to shy away from his gaze.
“You don’t think I'm a terrible person?” You looked into his eyes finally, wanting to know how he felt about you, how he felt about this.
His fingers left your hair as his thumb brushed over your lips. “Y’not a terrible anythin’ darlin’,” then he moved.
He was on you before you could take another breath. He slotted his lips over yours, his tongue sliding between them. He devoured you, stole the breath from your lungs. It was all consuming the way he kissed you, it felt like he was starved and you were all he wanted to consume. He sat back and pulled you with him, your legs wrapping around his hips leaving your core right in his lap. His hand cupped both cheeks as you pressed yourself fully to him, your hips grinding down into his. Your baggy sweatshirt was obstructing your skin from touching his, you needed more and the fabric was too warm.
You leaned back and you finally got a good look at his face as you pulled the zipper down. His lips were swollen and red and his eyes were almost all pupils. After ripping the bulky fabric off he finally moved his hands to the rest of you. He traced your arms down to where your hands laid on your thighs, he then lightly ran his fingers up your back over the thin fabric of your nightgown.
“You are so… fuck, you’re so gorgeous.” He sounded like he couldn’t catch his breath and yours caught in your throat. He pulled you into him again but it still wasn’t enough skin. As his soft lips worked over your pulse and his rough beard scratched at your neck you knew you needed more of him. You groaned as you pulled away again and tried to pull his shirt off yourself but he was just large enough to make it difficult. He smirked at you as he leaned forward to remove the shirt and your skin finally made contact with his.
You both groaned as you came together once again, finally able to feel his warm solid chest against yours. He explored your body again as your mouths did the same, he kissed down your neck, over your shoulders and between your breasts. The thin straps holding up the nightgown were quickly pulled down, revealing your chest to him. He lavished you and you felt the vibration of his groans as he licked the crevice between your breasts before closing his mouth around a peak and sucking. Your whole body arched into his, your fingers carding through his hair which made him groan deeper.
“Fuck— Joel,” your skin was on fire and you were lightheaded. You knew somewhere deep down you should feel bad or guilty but it was the furthest thing from your mind. He made you feel like you were floating, your soul somehow detached from your body.
He pulled back from you, just enough to catch his breath and look into your eyes. His hands however never stopped roaming your skin. His pupils were blown wide, almost none of the deep brown in his eyes were left now. He dipped his head and dove back into your skin, his lips attaching to your neck and it made you groan and your core clench.
He groaned into you and you felt it rumble through his chest. You felt like you were losing grip on reality, you couldn’t tell someone your own name if they asked. It was all worth it because you were lost in the pleasure of feeling him under you, but you needed more of him.
You dropped to the floor, the carpet soft under your knees. You tried to pull Joel’s pants down his hips, almost frantically as if you didn’t see all of him now you would die.
“Hol’on darlin’,” he kind of giggled as he slipped the fabric off his hips and he fell back onto the couch and looked down at you with his mouth hanging open in awe. You met his gaze before looking down at his hard length.
Fuck, he was big.
You lowered your mouth to him, teasing your lips over his silky skin. His breath caught in his chest. You ran your tongue up and his hand came up to hold the back of your head, not to force but support. Eventually his fingers grabbed into your hair when you wrapped your lips around him and pulled him in. You felt his rough moan reverberate into your body every time you dropped your head. It was difficult to take him all at once but you had to feel him, everywhere.
“Fuck, oh my—gooood…” he dropped his head back onto the couch but you knew he was watching you, his eyes never left you. You felt your arousal spread between your thighs knowing you were driving him mad. Before you even got a chance to really do much Joel pulled you up on your feet. He stayed seated and looked up at you through his lashes and your heart stopped for a second seeing him below you like this made your stomach dip and your panties wet.
His eyes were blazing a path over your body, nightgown bunched around your waist with your entire chest exposed. You should be cold but you felt like you were on fire. He ran his palms up the backside of your legs until he reached the lacy fabric of your underwear. His eyes never left yours as he slowly pulled the fabric off your hips and over your ass, his hands touching skin the whole way down and helped you step out of it. That swooping feeling settled into your stomach again as he slid his fingers back up the inside of your leg until he reached your hot center, eyes never leaving yours. You both moaned as he dipped into the slick that coated your skin.
“Mhmmm, this all f’me?” He looked at you with a mix of arrogance and pure desire as he moved his fingers in a slow circular motion. It was made easy by just how wet you were, you didn’t know if you had ever been this wet before. That’s the effect he had on you, or maybe this is just a primal kind of desire that you never had with your soon-to-be ex-husband.
Either way you were spiraling fast. You knew once you two came together you wouldn’t last long. You needed to feel him, it was driving you mad.
Joel seemed to be taking it slow, which you can admire as this is very new and he probably wanted to make sure you’re comfortable. While you admired him taking the time to make you comfortable you couldn’t wait anymore. As he kissed your chest and his fingers kept moving in agonizing circles across your sensitive bundle while you straddled his lap. His hard length rubbed against your center and both of your bodies shook with desire.
He groaned as he wasn’t expecting you to be on him so fast. His hands ran along every inch, taking you into him and never wanting to let go. You rocked your hips and slowly dragged your core across his length causing you both to stutter and moan. You were sick of waiting for the thing you had been thinking about non stop for weeks.
“Will you… make me feel good?” Your voice was squeaky and horse from all the moans and his eyes fluttered at your request.
“Oh darlin’… that bastard ain’t taking care of you huh? When’s the last time you were properly touched?”
You turned your eyes away from him, slightly embarrassed that he was able to tell that so easily. “Uhm… a while.” He gave you a pointed look, clearly not liking your non-answer. “A… a year,” his eyes widened at your admission. “Over a year…” You cringed at your final answer. You weren’t proud of the fact that it had been so long but you haven't been attracted to your husband in a long time.
”Oh… you poor thing,” he bracketed your cheeks with his large hands. “Don’t worry darlin’.”
Joel was losing composure quickly, he was ready to give you everything you deserved. His nimble fingers reached between your bodies and slid along your center, drawing a wanton moan from your chest. You ground your hips into his hand trying to create the friction he wasn’t giving you. He slowly spread your lips and ran his fingers gingerly over your clit causing your body to shake in his grasp.
“Hmm… y’all wet f’me?” His southern drawl was making his lust-drunk words slur together deliciously. The scruff of his mustache scratched at your neck but his lips and tongue soothed over the sensitive skin.
“Mmhmm… Joel— oh god please,” you sounded just as lost. Your voice cracked and your hips never stopped moving over his hand, desperate for attention.
“Don’t worry darlin’, I gotcha,” he quickly flipped you and your back hit the plush couch. A soft ‘oomf’ escaped your lips and Joel was mesmerized as you lay beneath him. “Oh look at’cha, you’re so pretty baby.”
His words were like hot honey, warm and sweet. You shifted under him and wrapped your fingers around his hard shaft and the groan that reverberated through his chest made your breath catch in your throat. You kept stroking him as his fingers found your wet center again, spreading your release over your puffy folds. As you wrapped your legs around his hips, you guided his crown to your core and felt the sweet stretch of him entering you slowly.
He paused for a few moments and looked like he was trying to center himself again before pushing his hips fully into yours and held himself there. A deep rumbling groan broke through his lips as he began to move, the stretch was making you nervous at first but you felt more and more comfortable as he kept moving. When he started to rub your neglected clit, a bolt of pleasure shot down your spine causing your back to arch and nails to dig into his arms.
“Such a good girl, baby… ngh— you-you feel so good,” his syrupy words made your head feel fuzzy and limbs heavy. His hips started to snap into yours at a harsher pace and his fingers spent up between you in tandem. Your orgasm was quickly approaching with his movements, faster than you expected. Was this the norm for people with healthy relationships and sex lives, real attraction? You couldn’t even finish the thought before Joel sped up his fingers and started to hammer into you. He was surrounding you, hovering over with those dark eyes and large shoulders. The smell of him alone was about to send you over the edge, he smelled like soap and a little like sawdust, all over man. His voice broke you out of your hazy state.
“You’re gonna— cum for me darlin’, I—I can’t hold on…much longer baby.” His voice was rough and demanding and almost like your body listened, you fell over the edge. The lewd moans and shouts of Joel’s name coming out of our mouth surprised you both. At feeling you cum around him, Joel lost all of his remaining control. He stilled inside you and you felt his muscles contract in his release.
“Oh fu—fuck! oh my… god,” he slumped against you and you welcomed his weight. You both settled into the couch as you rubbed your arms up and down his back. “I’m— I’m sorry darlin’, it's been a while. Normally I'd have… taken my time.”
He sounded almost nervous, it made you smile.
“Joel, stop. You have nothing to apologize for.”
”I’ll redeem myself next time.”
Next time? He wants there to be a next time!
You smiled to yourself and hummed at the content feeling of being under him while he still filled you.
You drifted to a place of half consciousness and woke up in, what you were pretty sure was the morning to the smell of bacon. You turned over in a bed, Joel's bed, to find it empty. You looked around the room and found it to be just like Joel, cozy and masculine. You located a shirt of his and threw it on before heading down the stairs to find a very sexy shirtless Joel standing in his kitchen, flipping pancakes.
“Mornin’ sleepy head,” his voice was thick with sleep and you walked up to him at the stove. With one large arm he pulled you into his side and kissed the top of your head. A slow smile spread on your lips at the familiarity of it all, the warmness of having someone to take care of you like this, emotionally. Something you almost never had with your husband, soon to be ex.
“Joel… thank you, for this.”
“What’cha mean darlin?”
“Taking care of me. Letting me come over last night.”
“Hey, look at me,” he tilted your chin up to meet his eyes. “Anytime you need me, I’m here.”
You tried to blink away the tears gathering on your lashes but one managed to slip, Joel’s thumb catching it before it reached your cheek. Time felt like it stopped as you leaned in to each other, lips pressing together as you moaned at the feeling.
The day was spent lazing in bed and talking about all the things you two would do when your divorce was finalized. The idea of divorce was the scariest thing in the world when you first thought about it, but now, knowing Joel would be with you every step of the way… you couldn’t wait.
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lovifie · 10 months ago
Note
Price had a young girlfriend and did not tell anybody until he decided to get married...
He probably didn't tell them until the night before the wedding…He asked them to come over for a little celebration and everyone expected a middle-aged woman. But when they saw a girl in her mid-20s opening the door with Price they were shocked
Soap probably even asked if she's his stepdaughter LOL
Hey, love!! 💗💗
I wrote you a little something...
I hope you like it 💗
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❤️Mr. & Mrs. Price❤️
Fluff | Sugestive | 1547 words | Back to Masterlist
They were having a pint at a pub close to base when he told them. 
“I'm getting married next Saturday, you have the weekend free, so drop by so I can introduce you to the missus.”
Now, Ghost wasn't surprised he didn't know about his captain having a girlfriend, let alone a relationship serious enough to talk about marriage. What surprised Ghost was that neither Soap nor Gaz knew about it. 
“Married?!” Gaz asked, loud enough to make some people turn their heads. 
Price furrows his eyebrow, surprised by the reaction as if he had just told them about what he's having from breakfast. 
“I didnae ken ye had a pretty bird waiting for ye at home, Captain!” Soap says, just as loud.
“Yeah, I have for a couple of years now.” Price simply answers, shrugging his shoulders as he takes a sip.
“A couple of years?!” The three men ask in unison like a bad comedic joke. 
A chain of questions starts to unravel, curiosity for the mysterious woman pouring out; but Price waves his hand shutting them up. “No point in that, you are meeting her this weekend, easier that way”
They begrudgingly agree, keeping to themselves the mental image of the possible woman. She must be around Price's age, so between 40 and 50 years old; knowing how little the man likes to go out they probably met at work so she must be military too. Stern woman. 
Price tells them that is something minor, the close family and a bunch of friends; that they can join at the reception at his house and to dress nicely. 
“No ghost mask.” He chastises the man pointing at him. “I don't want work involved, alright?”
During the week until the wedding, they keep thinking about her, about how she must look like, her personality, her age, her eye colour.
“What do you think she'll look like?”
“In my mind, she's like Laswell… but being into men.”
And out of every possibility and different mental image, the last thing they expected was the pretty thing that opened the door for them on Saturday. 
Pretty little thing, around 25 years old, with the kindest smile on her face even when looking at the three giants on her doorframe, flowy white dress, little hair strands framing her cute face with the rest of it gathered up in an intricate updo in the back hold together with shiny pins and a silky bow. 
“Oh, you must be John's friends.” You say, voice sweet as an angel. “Please, come in, don't just stand there. I'm gonna go get him, be back in a second”
You step back, holding the door open for them, inviting them in and once inside you close the door, walking past them to reach their captain who is looking in the opposite direction, talking to somebody else.
“That must be the stepdaughter… right?” Soap asks what all of them are thinking. 
They stare as you walk up to Price, placing your hand on his lower back making him turn to look at you; a wide smile appearing immediately. He leans forward, his arm moving behind your shoulder and his hand keeping your jaw in place as he kisses you. 
Lips crashing against yours, closing his eyes and letting his tongue into your mouth tasting the champagne you were drinking just a moment ago. A passionate, sloppy kiss that would make a maiden blush at the impropriety of it even for the newlyweds.
“Mate, I sure fucking hope she's not.” Gaz answers after a moment.
The two of you finally pull back, telling Price about his friends arriving and he looks behind you to see them. He smiles, not as wide as when he looked at you, and gives you a quick peck before walking to the door. 
“Welcome, lads. Thank you for coming.” He says simply, crossing his arms and looking proud. You appear from behind him, hand resting on his arm slightly leaning to his side.
“Do you want anything to drink? To eat?” You ask softly, love pouring out of Price's eyes as he looks down on you. 
“I'll help you.” Ghost says, a curl of his lips you could identify as a smile if you wanted to. And once the captain is left with the sergeants, the attack starts. 
“How does an old churl like you manages to get a pretty thing like her?”
“Where do you even meet a doll like her?”
“How many years have you exactly been dating for?”
Ghost clears his throat when he turns around the corner on his way back, with you chirping on his side about how happy you are to finally meet them. He has a more natural smile on his face now, clearly infected with your enthusiasm. 
Price finally introduces you to them, exchanging everyone's name. You hug both the sergeants and shake Ghost's hand, the man glad that you made the observation of his lack of appreciation towards body contact. 
After a little chat, you excuse yourself; promising to get back in a while wanting to talk to your own friends still waiting around the room. It leaves Price on his own and that's when he tells the nosy men how he met you. 
You were his neighbour, sharing half the walls of the old flat he house to live in before moving in together. How he introduced himself to you one day when he saw you leaving your house, how he told you he was military so you wouldn't freak out if you saw him in the middle of the night or suddenly disappeared for months, how after a specially long deployment he got back and you dropped by hours later with a bunch of tupperwares with homemade food “I assumed you would be tired, it's nothing special but I'll save you the hustle of cooking”, about how he had wanted to marry you ever since, how he gave you the tupperwares back one by one so he had more reasons to talk to you, how he finally asked you out with the last one and how after that it all was easy between you two.
The four of them swiftly move to sit down on the kitchen table, Price still telling them everything about you and the relationship. Ghost is just as invested as the other two, trying to play it off as polite interest. Slowly and smoothly people leave the house as the day goes by, the sun having set a couple of hours ago; and you walk into the kitchen, sitting on Price's lap with a sigh. 
“I know it isn't proper of a good host, but these shoes are killing me.” You announce looking at the three men as you bend down and take them off, a sigh of comfort leaving your mouth as you lean back on Price. “I'm also sure you have endurance worse than some stinky feet.” You joke with a tiny chuckle making them smile. 
“Everyone gone, darling?” Price asks, his hands resting on your lap as you nod smiling. He looks up to the boys as he says. “Better to tidy up then”
“Jonathan Price, don't be rude!” You exclaim looking at him. “They are your friends and there are more than enough rooms for them if they want to spend the night. They have been drinking too!”
“Mrs. Price.” John says with a teasing tone, standing up and helping you stand. “Talk to me for a second, love.”
Price bends down to pick your shoes up, holding your hand to walk you to the living room. They hear the two of you whispering back and forth, then silence and lastly the unmistakable sound of kisses. They peak behind the door, managing to see you sitting in the backrest of the sofa with Price standing between your legs, grinding his hips against yours. You moan softly against his lips, before pulling back and whispering something they can't make out; Price pulls back as well and they sit back on their chairs. 
Price walks in just a second later. “Lads… thank you for coming, I'll see you when I'm back from the honeymoon, now… OUT!” He barks the last word making Soap chuckle as they all finish their drink in a gulp and start to walk out of the house, congratulating Price on the marriage and walking out one by one; meanwhile, you remain completely out of sight for them.
“They gone?” You ask for the top of the stairs, looking at Price with a smile. 
“Yep.” Price says locking the door.
“You didn't have to kick them out like that, though.” You say cocking your head with a smile.
“Oh, yes, I did.” He says, turning around to start to walk up the stairs. 
“Why? Afraid they might join?” You say winking at him, making him laugh before he throws you over his shoulder making you shriek.
“Wouldn't you like that, you little minx!” He jokes, landing a smack on your asscheek. 
You gasp dramatically holding onto his clothes. “It's Mrs. Price to you, young man.”
He chuckles, making your body shake, before he throws you down on the bed; him instantly crawling on top of you. 
“Who's your husband, darling?”
“You, Mr. Price.”
A bit more of this
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sexy-monster-fucker · 1 month ago
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Aaron Hotchner x BAU!Reader
Summary: Reader gets jealous when some women start hitting on Aaron at the bar on their team night out
CW: drunk!Hotch, jealous!Reader, mentions of an unsub and murder, drinking, confessions, makeout, Hotch being handsy, kinda needy!Hotch?
a/n: I’m literally obsessed with Aaron Hotchner rn
~~~
“No— I can’t,” you opposed as your coworkers decided to order another round of shots. Cheeks glowing as the alcohol seeped into you. Smiling as Derek put his arm around you and J.J. reached across the table to encourage you.
It was a Thursday night. You all had just gotten back from a week long endeavor in Utah. Local killer had his sight on some local young women. Killing them in some ritual style way that the drinks helped you fuzz the memory of. Luckily after you had addressed the public, he grew sloppy and was easily caught.
And now, back in your home state, you all crowded into a local bar to relax. And when the BAU “relaxed” it usually involved some heavy drinking.
“Shots! Shots! Sh-Shots!” Penelope and Emily chanted to the tune of the Lil Jon song. You laughed, a subtle snort escaping you. Rossi came back with the tray, beginning to pass them out to everyone.
Aaron Hotchner hovered behind him. Already having downed three glasses of scotch and beaming with alcohol on his face. It was a rare occasion that Hotch got drunk. Usually he just sipped at one drink while everyone else got themselves into trouble. But tonight he decided to let loose. Taking two glasses off the tray and squeezing in next to you in the already tight booth. Sitting them down in front of the two of you. Hooded eyes squinted upward in a closed-mouth smile as his eyebrows raised at you.
And you felt your face completely flush. Since your time at the BAU, you had developed a crush on your superior. Even if it was inappropriate and the age gap was a bit large, you still harbored feelings for him. And moments like this did not help.
Completely engulfed by the aroma of his cologne. Trying not to make it obvious you were smelling him. Hotch wrapped his arm around you absentmindedly. Leaning in and holding one of the glasses up to you. “Are you gonna do a shot with me?” His slightly slurred words melted against your skin. His voice somehow deeper and sultrier than ever. Everyone else was too distracted by the giggling of drunken excitement for more drinks to notice what was happening. It was like you two were alone for a moment.
You smiled, nodding slowly as he passed you the shot in his hand. Picking up the other and wrapping his arm around yours. Intertwined so that your hands were back against your own mouths. You were beyond flustered with the contact he was making with you. Hotch began counting down, both of you throwing the alcohol back on three.
Sucking your teeth as it burned down your throat. Hotch blew his breath out. You watched as his nose scrunched up at the taste. Shaking off the strong taste as Hotch leaned in against you. His head bumping against yours for a moment. Lips pressing against your ear in his drunk state.
“Want me to go get us som’more drinks? You like something more fruity, right?” Hotch suggested, deep voice ringing in your ear. The feeling of his lips grazing your skin had you sweating.
“Only if you’re buying,” you pulled at his tie softly. Causing his eyes to lock into yours, corner of his mouth curving up. His eyes scanned your figure momentarily before getting up and strutting over to the bar.
“Oh. My. God.” J.J.’s voice pulled you back from your staring problem you had with Hotch. You whipped your neck to face her, adjusting your posture in the seat. Shaking your head slightly, “What?”
“What was that about?” J.J. grinned brightly, eyes bouncing from Hotch to you.
“We were just doing some shots together,” you felt your face heating up again. Tongue coming out to wet your lips as your mouth ran dry.
“The only other instances of Hotch getting that close to any of us was when we were hurt,” Spencer chimed in with his analytical sounding tone. Still as smart as ever even while drunk.
“Oh God, you guys,” you shook your head and scooted out of the booth. Stretching your legs for the first time tonight. Hands resting on the table as you got closer to the opposing side. Being eye-to-eye with J.J. and Spencer, “You guys know he acts different when he’s relaxed. It’s nothing.”
Spencer and J.J. exchanged a look of uncertainty. Neither of them believing what you had just said. Rolling your eyes at their smirking expressions. Catching on easily to the feelings you had for your boss.
Downside of having friends who are profilers.
“Drop it,” you pointed at them with two fingers. Your friends began snickering and laughing. You could not help but smile back at them. Laughter was contagious when you were intoxicated. You turned to meet your crush at the bar.
You froze.
Some woman was cuddled up with Hotch at the bar. Breasts peaking out of the top of her thin shirt, curled hair falling below her shoulders, and a beautiful face of makeup. Your heart sank down to your ankles. Watching as her hand trailed his chest. Watching how her perfectly glossed lips popped as she spoke to him inaudibly.
Worst of all: his smile.
SSA Hotchner tended to be gruff and stern. Brooding and unreadable. Purely business around you and the other members of the BAU. Stoic and distant. Something you all agreed was so he did not get overly attached, just in case something happened to one of you. Rarely smiling other than seeing his sweet son, Jack.
Guess tonight was different.
Rosey cheeks and perfect teeth painted his expression. Eyes locked in on the woman before him. Your hands began shaking at your sides. If it was not a cartoon cliche, you would have had smoke coming out of your ears. Teeth grinding together behind tightly pierced lips.
Rethinking any hints he may have given you. Feeling like you had fooled yourself into a crush. Angry that some random bitch woman was getting too friendly with Hotch.
Unable to take it anymore. Jealousy brewing inside you, ready to overflow. You marched up to the bar, immediately pulling Hotch’s attention from the woman.
“Sorry to interrupt—“
“Hi, Y/N,” Hotch smiled at you. Causing butterflies to flutter in your intestines. Especially with the casualty of your first name.
God, he was drunk.
“SSA Y/L/N,” you extended your hand out to the woman, lip twitching when she shined her perfect smile. Flaring your nostrils and locking your jaw when your hand met hers.
“Hi! I’m Hope,” her peppy attitude made you sick to your stomach. Trying your best to fake your expression. Anger causing a slight shake to your demeanor.
“Right…” you trailed off, looking at Hotch whose eyes had not left you yet, “Hotch—“
“C’mon, Y/N. You can call me Aaron here,” he leaned in and whispered to you. Chills ran down your entire body when the heat from his lips radiated against your skin. Swallowing the lump in your throat.
Oh, he was REALLY drunk.
“Aaron,” you started, watching him smile at you saying his first name, “Did you get my drink?”
Hotch’s hand came up cupping his cheek as his eyes squinted, “Oh my God. That’s why I came up here. I totally forgot—“
“Don’t worry about it, Hotch,” your frustration took over your attitude. Fists clinching at your sides. Feeling tears beginning to burn behind your eyes. Deciding to storm off without the drink. Heading towards the long corridor to the bathrooms.
“Y/N—“ Hotch reached out to you with a confusion behind his tone. Not caring enough to listen to whatever excuse his drunken self was gonna give you. Trying your best not to make a scene so none of your coworkers would notice and come after you. Really just needing to be alone.
You leaned against the cold wall, hands holding onto each of your arms. Head resting against the brick of the dimly lit hallway. Fighting your eyes that begged to leak with your feelings. And you felt stupid. Did you really think your own boss would be interested in you? Enough to not get distracted by the beautiful woman at the bar? Please.
Feeling suddenly sober at the heartbreak in your chest. Hands coming up to cover your redening face. Embarrassed that you had even toyed with the notion. Knowing it was completely against protocol to fraternize with coworkers. Let alone with your superior—
“Y/N?” Hotch’s somber voice broke you away from the thoughts filling your mind.
You blinked your eyes open. Manually breathing as your shoulders rose and fell. Controlling the water that begged to pour from your eyes. Clicking your tongue as you spoke, “Hotch.”
“I told you, you could call me Aaron here,” he leaned against the wall beside you. Arms folded over his broad chest. Pondering the informality before looking back to him.
“I thought you saved that for pretty girls at the bar,” you half-heartedly smiled. Flaring your nostrils as you contorted your face to hide your frown.
Hotch laughed, bearing that smile that had you seeing stars. Eyes closing for a moment, giving you the opportunity to linger in it. Enjoying him being this casual with you.
“Is that not what you are?” Hotch asked.
You whipped your head to look at him again. Brows furrowed tightly together as your mouth hung open in confusion. “What?”
Hotch rose a brow, “Are you not a pretty girl? At the bar with me right now?”
You blinked as you stammered, “I— Not like… I mean— not like that girl at the bar…” You trailed off completely dumbfounded by his statement. Hotch watched you with a smile. His own cheeks still red.
“You think I’m pretty?” You finally formed a cohesive sentence unable to stop your mouth from curving into a smile.
“Doesn’t everyone?” Hotch’s hooded eyes stared into yours. Taken aback by that. Questioning for a moment if he was mocking you. Realizing by his expression he was not.
“You’re drunk, Hotch—“
“Aaron,” he corrected, “And, yeah I am drunk. But just drunk enough to finally be honest with you about that.” Hotch’s tongue darted out of his mouth to wet his lip. Hand coming up and rubbing his neck at his confession.
“You didn’t have to come back here just to try and make me feel better. You were having a good chat with that woman at the bar. She was so beautiful, and made you smile, and not a part of the BAU, and—“ you covered your mouth getting embarrassed and shameful.
Hotch’s hand caressed your cheek. Pulling you back to him. His brows laid flat against his eyes. Lips pressed firmly together, watching his throat bob with the swallow he took. Thumb rubbing circles into your warm cheek, swiping away the singular line of tears that streamed down.
“I’m sorry— it’s the alcohol, that’s why I’m crying—“
Hotch cut you off by pressing a passionate kiss to your lips. Your eyes flew open. Hand gently resting against his chest as you savored the feeling of his lips on yours. Feeling your breath hitch in your throat and heart swell.
“You taste so sweet,” Hotch groaned, both hands gripping your face now. The primal noises he made causing arousal to swirl around your belly. Feeling its residue stick to your panties. His lips trailed down your jaw to your neck. Nipping against your soft skin as his hands roamed down the backside of your body. Gasping when his large hands groped your ass.
“I get chit-chatty when I’m drunk. That girl at the bar didn’t matter at all,” Hotch promised against your skin with kisses breaking up his sentences.
“You won’t even remember this in the morning,” you giggled when he took your earlobe between his teeth. Feeling a somberness sinking into your gut.
“How could I forgot this?” Hotch breathed into your ear. Sounding like he was desperate and almost completely out of breath, “Forget about you?”
Hotch pulled back to look into your eyes. Really taking in your face before him. Your eyes kept darting between his and his lips. Smiling when you could still taste him on your lips.
You pressed up on your toes, lips meeting his again. Tongues exploring each other’s mouths. Sloppily intertwining together. Huffs and grunts coming from Hotch as he pulled your front flush against his. You blushed at the feeling of his bulge.
“What about the team?” You questioned as the weight of the situation became suddenly apparent.
“I don’t care about them right now,” Hotch pressed his lips back to yours. Kissing away any fear or dread that was in your mind. Completely consuming you. Smiling as you both allowed hands to roam the other’s body.
You broke the kiss momentarily, “So— wait— you mean Rossi thinks I’m pretty too?” You teased him, grinning from ear to ear.
“Watch it,” Hotch smiled with a playful aggression on his tone, capturing you back in a kiss. Laughing together as you pressed lips together.
~~~
[END//?]
// Thank you so much for reading! I’m having such a blast writing for Hotch right now. Honestly, I’m think about making a smutty part 2 to this fic if anyone was interested. If you have requests or want to be tagged in any future Fics, let me know! //
{tags}
@megangovier ~ @bondwithme-murderstyle ~ @boybandbaby ~ @hoffmanfan13 ~ @justyourusualash ~ @mrs-ssa-hotch ~
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